Rogue.
I read it over and over again, feeling nothing less than utter shock. More shock than what came after, even.
Based on everything I learned, a rogue was someone who either blatantly stole from others, was a recognized criminal, or had been banned from a city or state for nefarious deeds. Yet, as far as I was aware, the only things I’d ever stolen were souls, vitality, and trinkets from the dead. And Humphrey, but I wasn’t aware that amounted to me going rogue.
Even if I’ve eschewed the ways of the kin I’ve never met, I didn’t see how that warranted me becoming a rogue. And being one required far more than just dealing with souls. If I wanted to finish this path- and I had to if I wanted to remove this brand, I had to raise a devil army alongside my Legions, spread death and darkness across the Mortal Plane, and eventually war against the divine.
Granted, I fully expected to do those things anyway. But being told I had to do it was a different story. It took all the fun out of it. Not only that, but I expected the Path of Zefroth to lead me down such a road. Instead, Zefroth’s Path called for me to create warlocks, learn the ways of my devilkin, and retrace the steps of my distant ancestors; giving me quite exotic transformations and other abilities along the way.
Being on the Eternal Path, I figured I’d have to war with at least one God eventually, but being forced to do so left a sour taste in my mouth, to say the least. Regardless, I was interested to see many of the future rewards in action, though I was fully aware that moving up in the class depended entirely upon the actions of others, thus it would most likely be the last path I saw the end of. As it should have been. And my sorcerer and rogue paths wouldn’t be too far behind them. On the contrary, however, I was confident that the Way of Death’s Door would be the first I’d see the end of. All it required of me was to spend an increasingly longer time roaming and fighting and meditating on death’s door while I continued to develop the ki paths within my spirit to the point of Abbot Eiriol’s.
As I assumed, the monastic synergized nicely with both my strengths and weaknesses. I was half-drow, which gave me an innate resistance to magic on top of my elvish agility and dexterity. That, combined with the monk's ability to parry projectiles made me virtually untouchable at long range and simultaneously heightened both my offensive and defensive capabilities at close range. Essentially, antimagic would be no issue for me with the perks of this class, yet it was the easiest of them all for me to venture.
Considering that, I decided it best to place it at the far end of my priorities for the coming year and instead move down the path of the Soul Mastermind first. All I needed to do was to learn a language and make a nickname after all, so it made sense that it was where I would start. After that, I’d have the ability to gain my first promotion or two in Sorcery before I took off to learn enchanting and toil away in a temporally dilated lab.
Once every creation festering in my mind was brought into reality, that was when I’d spend the few months with Abbot Eiriol to begin making my way towards Death’s Door. Regrettably, however, all I could do until then was create my Divine Profile and crank out as many potions as I could, and for better or for worse, the former wouldn’t take long and I had more than enough time and resources for the latter.
“Congratulations, newly awakened!”
A voice as regal and smooth as silken strands boomed through the hall, stirring our minds and eyes away from the arcane scrips floating before our eyes and onto Abbot Eiriol, smoothly levitating in front of the approaching instructors with waving hands. Frantically waving, it seemed at a glance, but I recognized it as the sign language taught to me by my mother. ‘Rendezvous with us in the court, Ascendant.’ She signed while saying. “As of this hour, you are Pages no more. You yearn for freedom, I am aware, thus I will keep my words sparse. Meet with us to learn when and where your studies are to begin and do your best to make this time of leisure worthwhile.”
With a pompous huff, she pivoted and drifted off to an ambiguous corner of the room to wait. Soon enough, the instructors did much the same, and we newly awakened eagerly followed. I noticed a sour look in her eye as I turned away from her to speak with Zoop, though I put it out of my mind as I caught a glimpse of a sign telling the rogues where to be before the bubbling face of the gnome appeared before my eyes.
“Hey, hey! Nice to see ya!” She beamed.
“Likewise!” I couldn’t help but beam back.
“Are you a Grandmaster Industrialist too?” She beamed, nudging Ed as she did so. “Are ya? Are ya?”
And of course, I beamed wider as he grinned. “I am!”
“Good, good!” She bounced in place. “And don’t be daunted about alchemy! As long as you have the materials, you can brew as big a batch as you want!”
“That’s good to know.” Both I and Ed sighed in relief. Then we nearly coughed after a loose scroll was shoved into each of our guts.
“Here’s your map! Classes begin on the first, but you can show up whenever you like! But keep in mind, once you come, you’re expected to stay until you’re certified. And then you’re free to create all you want, yes you are!”
“Oh, that’s not a problem.” I grinned knowingly.
“Good! And last thing!” She wagged a pudgy finger towards our brows. “Two things I’m obligated to tell you. Some classes allow you to have a Familiar. And some classes or magic types or even scrolls allow you to summon creatures from the other planes. Your evolution should give you the know-how for the first. And a course for the second one starts during the second semester.”
“Who’s the instructor?” I quickly asked.
She paused to give me a knowing wink. “Why, the Necro King of course. But not as you know him, I’m sure.”
“Ah.” I dejectedly nodded. “I see.”
“Yep! Well, see ya soon!”
“I can’t imagine the Necro King coming here to teach.” Ed chortled after she left. “Even for you.”
“Yeah. But as she said, it's not the Necro King we know.” I snorted. “One clone could become two. But no more,” I muttered my great-grandfather's now less cryptic words, then turned to Ed, grinning, to give him a brisk pat on the back. “Anyway, congratulations! I need to talk to take care of a few things. We’ll meet at the tower to do all the other things and celebrate, yeah?”
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“Yeah. Take your time.” He returned my pat and trotted off into the distance.
Though there were still arcane words in my periphery to deal with, I turned just as the matronly drow turned away from the other monks. In ways she could only dream of, I kept to the darkness on the way to the courtyard and soon found Corym and Indra standing adjacent to each other in wait for her arrival.
I waited a few moments after she stopped by their sides before revealing myself. If only to gain a bit of information. But alas, there wasn’t as much as a sneer shared between them while they waited. Only when I stepped from the curtain of darkness clinging to the walls did they spur into action, reaching into dimensional storage pockets, pouches, and sleeves alike to offer me gifts in the form of magical items.
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<> She smiled knowingly. <
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<> she said, though she seemed as if she wished to say more.
<> I nodded, not understanding the implications, and turned to the others. <
<> Corym said, causing me to grin wide in excitement.
But then Abbot Eiriol traced her slender finger over my hand. <> She snickered. <
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They bowed their dismissal and departed without another word, giving me the solitude I needed to try out this Identify skill and get back to the others to finalize my portfolio.
As the arcane words implied, using the skill required me to mold the ambient mana around the object and concentrate for about six to ten seconds. Concentrating, in this context, implied turning the object around before my eyes, feeling the fabrics, the stitching, and most importantly, the magic as deeply as I could before the ambient mana surrounding me coalesced into words.
[The Fae Runner’s Night Heels aids the wearer in acts that require stealth, speed, and agility, and mutes the wearer’s movements at will while within dim light or darkness.]
[The Elven Gloves of Floral Handling grants the wearer the means to imbue plant life with temporary sentience for the sake of conversation, and simultaneously gives the wearer limited control over plants.]
[Raven’s Ring of Animal Speaking is an accursed ring that requires the wearer's life essence to speak with animals. If the wearer is a necromancer or undead, however, this is negated and instead, the wearer can speak with deceased fauna.]
“Fascinating!” I let the ring join the last few items swirling around me. It seemed to be a relatively unremarkable ring made of wood and perhaps ivory, carved with the likeness of many animals around its circumference. A ruse, I now realize; and began to assume that its true form- whatever that was- would show once it’d been attuned with a new owner.
Fascinating indeed, and rather uncanny, were the last few items, a drow-made tunic, bracers, and a Greater Piwiff- a gossamer and somehow Mithral-threaded magical cloak that’d been improved upon with acid-resistant materials- all embroidered with the same markings spread across my stomach and chest.
As great, and uncanny as it was, I had no use for anything other than the tunic and bracers and perhaps the ring. The boots had the added benefit of increasing my speed while the Piwiff worked as camouflage in the Darkworld as well as a shield from the sun. Things I had no real use for. The gloves were nice in the sense that they gave me control over plants like orcs, but I quickly saw how slippery a slope conversing with plants could be, so they were placed into storage along with the other items and the ring.
My connection to it aside, the ring, I had a use for. Or perhaps not, if I were to believe Indra’s teasing words. Either way, I wanted a druid in my squad and more, I intended to dissect each gift to figure out how they worked and, hopefully, improve upon them for my legions. Regardless, I slipped it on and attuned to it with a small burst of mana without delay and stepped off at once, eager to test it out. However, an accursed presence soon pulled my attention away from the sudden darkening of the ring, bringing my eyes around to see a hulking, horned figure slouching forward from the shadows.
“I assume you want to get this over with as soon as possible?” I mockingly laughed through the darkness, sending waves of haunting whispers rippling toward the ancient ears of Zorrenor Knagh. "The beginning of the year is always a bit hectic; am I right?”
He halted mid-step, just before stepping into the gentle radiance of Mani, my moon, and took a deep sigh. Almost as if he needed to mentally prepare for the act, he took a final, great step forward, placing his overbearing, yet diminutive frame just within arms reach.
“What is this deal you proposed?” He resignedly sighed.
“First, I must say that I lack the time and the inclination to go through with this at the moment. But.” I gave him a pained smile. “I’m willing to meet in the middle. Beware, however, of the fact that this deal will in no way benefit you. Your only benefit is that I don't curse you and will take no further actions against you.
“I would ask if that applies to your... subordinates, as well?”
“Of course.” I nodded.
“And your undead?”
“Naturally.” I nodded again.
“...I am listening.”
“There will be six clauses to our agreement,” I said, holding out my thumb to count. “First, you will grant me sixty-six parcels of land from your territories, one hundred square kilometers each. Second, I will have the first right to recruit the next two classes of students to attend the Bodhi Tree. Third.” I grinned wickedly. “I will harvest one branch of my choosing from the Bodhi Tree.”
His face wrinkled with equal parts wrath and terror, but he could do nothing but resign his fate and listen, much to my glee, as my next demands would surely put him on edge.
“The fourth clause is a divine tree seed from the Bodhi Tree and the knowledge of how to cultivate it and use it to its fullest extent- all the knowledge you know of it. Including the aphids.” His grimace tightened while my grin widened. “I’ll be taking that tonight along with the branch. And the parcels will be taken by the end of the month. Once the Millennial Class completes their mid-year festival, I’ll return for your dominant eye and your non-dominant hand, thus completing the fifth clause and finalizing our deal.
“The sixth won’t go into effect until after your inevitable death,” I explained in response to his silent inquiry. “Rather than your soul or your flesh, your spirit will belong to me in death. Your Mana Well and your affinity for Love.
“A small price to pay for a continued- if not fleeting- existence, is it not?”
“Begrudgingly so.” He growled through clenched teeth. “But I must know, why the seed? You are guaranteed to get one in but two short years.”
“While I’ll tell you that it’s none of your business, I’ll also tell you that it’s for an experiment.” I smiled warmly. “Let’s hope you live long enough to see it. Though I and neither shall my subordinates, nor my undead, raise our hands against you.
“So, Zorrenor Knagh, do we have a deal?”