As I walked along the winding road, the first two hours passed in tranquil solitude. The landscape unfolded around me—rolling hills blanketed with wildflowers, the distant silhouettes of mountains crowned with mist, and the gentle whisper of the wind through the trees. The only sounds were the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath my boots and the occasional birdsong that punctuated the silence.
After a time, I began to encounter villagers traveling from the direction of the town I was heading toward. They guided carts laden with hay, barrels, and bundles of goods. Most offered polite greetings or a nod as we passed each other, their faces weathered but friendly. The closer I got to the city, the more the road bustled with activity. People moved in both directions, some emerging from smaller paths that connected to the main thoroughfare. The air filled with snippets of conversations, the creaking of wheels, and the distant laughter of children.
Along the way, my attention was drawn to a pair of travelers unlike any I had seen before. Even after meeting the dark elf witch and Aurelith, their appearance was astonishing. One was a towering humanoid with skin that seemed fashioned from stone or metal, its surface smooth yet marked with natural striations. The ground beneath his feet appeared to flow and straighten as he walked, as if the earth itself accommodated his steps. Beside him strode a stout figure I could only describe as a dwarf—strongly built, about the height of a child but with the proportions of a rugged adult. A full beard cascaded down to his chest, braided and adorned with small metal rings.
I found myself staring, unable to suppress my curiosity. The dwarf caught my gaze and shouted something in a thick, gravelly accent. The words were unintelligible to me, but his scowl and the sharpness in his eyes made it clear he didn't appreciate the attention.
"Sorry!" I called back hastily, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I quickly averted my eyes, pretending to find something fascinating in the distant treeline.
Undeterred, the dwarf continued to grumble loudly, gesturing animatedly to his tall companion. Though I couldn't decipher his heavy accent, the only word I recognized was "human," spat out with palpable disdain. His voice carried a mixture of frustration and annoyance, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for having offended him.
As I glanced around, I noticed a few other humans on the road casting hostile glances toward the unusual pair. Some muttered under their breath, while a few even spat in their direction when they thought they wouldn't be noticed. Yet, despite their apparent contempt, they all kept a wide berth, as if fearful of getting too close.
A burly man, likely around my age, approached me with a confident stride. He had the look of someone well-acquainted with hard labor—thick muscles, sun-bronzed skin, and short blond hair that appeared haphazardly cut. A heavy pack was slung over one shoulder, and he carried a sturdy wooden stick in his free hand.
"You don't have to apologize to those folks," he declared loudly, his tone dripping with contempt. "It's only natural to stare at something so... freakish. If we weren't dependent on the metals they bring, those greedy pests wouldn't be allowed in human lands."
He punctuated his words by pointing the stick in the direction of the pair. His blatant disdain made me uncomfortable, and I shifted uneasily on my feet.
Before I could respond, a commotion drew our attention. The dwarf, clearly agitated by the man's outburst, was rummaging through a small bag at his side. To my astonishment, he pulled out an enormous crossbow—far too large to have fit in the modest satchel. He began shouting even louder, his face flushed with anger as he waved the weapon in our direction.
Just as tensions seemed ready to erupt, his towering companion intervened. With a single fluid motion, the stone-skinned giant lifted the dwarf off the ground, holding him securely under one arm. The dwarf struggled briefly, legs kicking in the air, but he couldn't break free from the iron grip.
"Ignore them," the tall being intoned, his voice deep and resonant like the rumble of distant thunder. "We have a mission to fulfill. Engaging with them would jeopardize it."
The dwarf glared but ceased his struggling, muttering under his breath as he allowed himself to be carried along. The two resumed their journey down the road, the dwarf still held aloft, creating an unusual and almost comical sight.
Before the brash young man beside me could hurl any more insults at the dwarf brandishing his formidable crossbow, I decided it was time to steer the conversation in a different direction.
"Hello there," I interjected warmly, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's William. Are you headed to town as well?"
He turned to me, his attention momentarily diverted from the dwarf. Grasping my hand with a firm shake, he flashed a confident grin. "Yes, I am! I'm setting out to become an adventurer and prove to my village that I have what it takes to ascend! I'm going to be a mighty warrior, and nothing is going to stop me."
His enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes alight with ambition. Unsure how to respond to such fervent determination, I offered an encouraging nod. "Well, I wish you the best of luck on your journey. I'm hoping to become an Artificer when I reach town."
He raised an eyebrow, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "So you've got a mana class, huh? No wonder you're so meek. You're going to stay weak forever with one of those classes." He leaned in slightly, his tone almost conspiratorial. "You should switch before it's too late. If you choose a real class, we could form a party and grow stronger together."
I felt a flicker of irritation at his condescension but kept my voice even. "I'll consider it," I replied diplomatically. Hoping to shift the topic, I asked, "Could you tell me something about the town up ahead? I've never left my village before and don't know much about it."
He snorted dismissively, rolling his eyes. "Then go ahead and stay weak, holed up in town working for scraps on the Mortal Plane if that's what you want." He waved a hand dismissively toward the road ahead. "It's just a small town like any other in the Human Lands—nothing special."
His brusque reply made it clear he wasn't interested in further conversation unless it revolved around his own aspirations. I glanced ahead, spotting the spires of buildings just beginning to peek over the horizon. The town was still a ways off, but the road was growing busier with travelers.
"Thanks anyway," I said, offering a polite smile despite his attitude.
He shrugged, already looking past me. "Suit yourself," he muttered. "Don't come crying to me when you're stuck as a low-level mage with no prospects."
With that, he hefted his pack higher on his shoulder and quickened his pace, moving ahead of me on the road. I watched him go, his confident stride kicking up small clouds of dust with each step.
Sighing softly, I adjusted the straps of my own pack. The encounter left a sour taste, but I reminded myself that not everyone would be so dismissive. The world was vast, filled with all manner of people, and I'd have plenty of opportunities to meet those who shared my interests—or at least respected them.
As I continued walking, the landscape unfolded around me in a tapestry of colors and sounds. Fields of wildflowers stretched out on either side, their petals dancing in the breeze. Birds flitted between the trees, their songs weaving into the ambient hum of distant conversations and creaking wagon wheels.
Ahead, a group of merchants chatted amiably as they guided their laden carts, while a family walked together, the children laughing as they chased one another along the roadside. The air was rich with the scent of earth and the promise of new experiences.
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I couldn't help but feel a surge of determination. Regardless of the opinions of others, I was forging my own path. The skills I'd begun to learn with Aurelith were just the beginning. Becoming an Artificer might not seem impressive to some, but I was certain it held the key to unlocking the mysteries of this world—and perhaps even finding a way back home.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed as the town gradually drew closer, its outlines sharpening against the skyline. A mix of nerves and excitement fluttered in my chest. New possibilities awaited, and I was ready to embrace them—on my own terms.
A short while later, I found myself standing in a line at the imposing gates of Stonehaven. The massive wooden doors, reinforced with iron bands and adorned with intricate carvings of unknown creatures, loomed overhead. Guards in mismatched armor lounged lazily by the entrance, their swords sheathed and helmets tilted back as they casually surveyed the steady stream of travelers. They collected fees from everyone entering the city, their movements methodical and tinged with boredom.
As the line inched forward, I took in the sights around me. Merchants haggled over the prices of their wares, the scent of exotic spices mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly tilled soil. Families with weary expressions clutched their belongings tightly, while adventurers with weathered gear and distant gazes waited patiently for their turn. The murmur of conversations and occasional outbursts of laughter filled the air.
Finally, I reached the front of the line. One of the two guards—a stout man with a scruffy beard and a sardonic gleam in his eye—stepped forward. He eyed me with mild interest.
"Name and reason for your visit?" he drawled, his voice rough like gravel.
"My name is William Amberhall," I replied, keeping my tone respectful yet firm. "I'm here to become an Artificer."
He raised a skeptical eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over my modest attire and travel-worn boots. "An Artificer, you say? That's an expensive profession to learn." A hint of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Do you even have the funds to support this grand ambition?"
Not wanting to reveal the extent of the coins Aurelith had entrusted to me, I offered a humble shrug. "I wasn't aware of the costs involved," I admitted. "But I have enough for food and lodging, at least."
He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Another country bumpkin hoping to strike it rich as an Artificer," he muttered under his breath. "Entry fee is one silver," he continued, louder now, "but I'd advise you to turn around and come back when you've got some real money."
Reaching into my pouch, I retrieved a silver coin and placed it into his outstretched hand. His fingers closed around it swiftly, and he pocketed it with practiced ease. Without bothering to inspect my belongings further, he stepped aside.
"Welcome to Stonehaven," he said in a lackadaisical tone, waving me through with a lazy gesture.
As I passed under the archway, the sights and sounds of the city enveloped me. To my surprise, Stonehaven was remarkably clean. Cobblestone streets wound through orderly rows of buildings, their stone facades adorned with decorative lanterns that cast a warm, welcoming glow. Flower boxes brimmed with vibrant blooms beneath windows, and the air was filled with the enticing aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering stews.
Expecting the grime and refuse common to medieval cities—or at least the ones from stories back home—I was pleasantly surprised by the evident care the inhabitants took in maintaining their surroundings. There were no open sewers running down the streets, no piles of waste cluttering the alleyways. Instead, a sense of pride seemed to permeate the atmosphere.
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the bustling marketplace. Realizing that dusk was approaching, I decided to find an inn where I could rest for the night. I approached a kindly-looking woman arranging apples at her fruit stall.
"Excuse me," I began politely. "Could you recommend a good place to stay for the night?"
She glanced up with a warm smile. "Certainly, dear. 'The Whispering Pines' is just down that way," she said, pointing toward a side street lined with trees. "It's a respectable establishment—clean rooms and fair prices. You can't miss it."
Thanking her, I made my way in the indicated direction. The inn soon came into view—a charming timber-framed building with ivy climbing its walls and a sign adorned with painted pine trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. Soft light spilled from the windows, and the faint sound of music drifted outward.
Stepping inside, I was greeted by a cozy interior. Worn wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and a large hearth crackled merrily at one end of the common room. Patrons sat at scattered tables, engaged in quiet conversations over mugs of ale and hearty meals. A bard strummed a lute in the corner, the melancholic melody adding to the inviting ambiance.
Approaching the bar, I was met by the innkeeper—a middle-aged man with a friendly face and a dusting of grey in his hair. "Good evening, traveler," he said amiably. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like a room for the night," I replied. "Preferably one that includes dinner and breakfast."
He nodded. "We have just the thing. Two silvers covers the room and meals." He paused, noting the weariness in my posture. "For an extra silver, we can have a tub of warm water brought up to your room. A nice soak does wonders after a long journey."
The idea of a bath was undeniably appealing. "That sounds perfect," I agreed, counting out three silver coins and placing them on the counter.
"Excellent choice," he said with a grin, scooping up the coins. "I'll have everything prepared right away. Your room is up the stairs, third door on the left."
Taking the key he offered, I made my way to the room. It was modest but comfortable—a soft bed with fresh linens, a wooden writing desk beneath a small window overlooking the street, and a simple wardrobe for belongings. True to his word, a steaming tub awaited me, the water infused with fragrant herbs that filled the room with a soothing scent.
Sinking into the warm bath, I felt the tensions of travel melt away. My thoughts wandered as I soaked—reflecting on the skepticism of the guard, the unexpected cleanliness of Stonehaven, and the path that lay ahead in pursuing the Artificer's craft.
After drying off and changing into clean clothes, I headed back downstairs for dinner. The common room was livelier now, with more patrons filling the tables. I found an empty seat near the hearth and was soon served a bowl of rich stew brimming with tender meat, potatoes, and carrots. A hunk of crusty bread accompanied the meal, perfect for sopping up the savory broth.
As I ate, I listened to the snippets of conversation around me—tales of local happenings, rumors of distant lands, and the occasional boastful adventure recounted by a traveling mercenary. The bard had transitioned to a more upbeat tune, and a few patrons clapped along in time.
Feeling comfortably full, I leaned back in my chair and allowed myself a moment of contentment. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered, I felt a sense of optimism blooming within me. Stonehaven held promise—a place where I could learn, grow, and perhaps find the answers I sought.
When fatigue finally settled over me, I made my way back to my room. The bed was as inviting as it looked, and as I lay beneath the soft blankets, the sounds of the city lulled me toward sleep.
Before surrendering to the embrace of sleep, I recalled Aurelith's parting advice to monitor my progress regularly. With a thought, I summoned the translucent interface that displayed my current stats. The soft glow of ethereal text materialized before my eyes, casting a gentle light in the dim room.
* Name: William Amberhall
* Race: Manaborn
* Level: 1
* Class: Mage
* Health: 101
* Focus: 50
* Mana: 51
* Attributes:
* Strength: 5
* Dexterity: 5
* Willpower: 7 (enhanced by 20%)
* Stamina: 6
* Charisma: 115
I studied the numbers carefully. My stamina had increased by one point—a subtle yet satisfying indication that the day's journey had begun to harden my physique. The hours of walking, coupled with the weight of my pack, were already yielding tangible results. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
To my surprise, my willpower had also increased by one. This had to come from the countless hours I'd spent trying to cast magic under Aurelith's tutelage. Each attempt to conjure the Glyphs, each moment of intense focus and frustration, had strengthened my mental fortitude. The memory of the Glyph flickering into existence, only to dissolve at the slightest distraction, resurfaced. Yet, with each failure, my resolve had deepened. The incremental progress was like the first glimmers of dawn after a long night.
Yet, despite these small victories, I realized how little I understood about this world's mechanics. What exactly did each attribute govern? How did they interplay with my skills and potential growth? The terms Health, Focus, and Mana were familiar, but their exact implications remained hazy. And with my recent ascension to Level 1 and the choice of the Mage class, a whole realm of possibilities—and uncertainties—had opened up.
I resolved to seek answers tomorrow. Stonehaven was a city ripe with opportunity. Perhaps I could find a guild of Artificers willing to take on an apprentice, or a knowledgeable mentor who could illuminate the mysteries of these stats. Even a well-stocked library might hold the information I needed.
The inn was quiet now, the gentle hum of distant conversations fading as patrons retired for the night. From my window, I could see the moon casting its silvery glow over the rooftops, stars peeking through the veil of darkness like distant beacons. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of hearth smoke and blossoming night flowers. The weariness of the day settled over me like a comforting blanket, and I drifted into a deep, restful sleep, my dreams filled with swirling Glyphs, ancient secrets, and the faint echo of a dragon's laughter.