They walked in silence for a time. The mage’s shadows stay far enough away to not intrude but close enough that they could rush in at a moment's notice. They entered the shrine district before either spoke. Kal thought she was the one with the questions, she would speak when she was ready. It still felt awkward. Walking silently through town with a beautiful mage that could disintegrate you if she was slightly annoyed was stressful. It was safer to just wait and see.
“Tell me Kal, which god do you pay respects to ?” Melisia asked.
Kal was almost startled by the question. Was her behavior just to keep him off balance or is this what Dalen meant by peculiar? “I don’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t believe they have much time for respect or prayers. Let alone to be distracted by someone like me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? I suppose one in your situation would feel that way. I most often pay my respects to the goddess of logic Quotz. I believe that the laws of reality are based in the physical realm despite my power set.” She stopped turning to face Kal. “Though I have other duties to attend to with this conflict with the cultists. My colleagues at the university study delayed ascendancy. We are trying to discover the long-term effects depending on the age of ascendancy and the specific requirements of attaining certain classes of various rarity.”
She stopped and turned to face him, “If you would assist us in our research. I would like to assist you in achieving ascendancy.”
Kal had long ago lost hope of ascending. Almost seven years of labor, beatings, and self-loathing had seen to that. But could she help him gain his class? A mage of her power had never taken notice of Kal before. He was invisible in the eyes of the powerful if not a pest. “Can it even be done ?”
Her eyes sparkled “I am not sure, but I would like to find out.”
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They continued their walk for a time mostly in silence with a few vague questions about Kal’s lineage. But he didn’t know much about his family. He had been an outsider since his mother passed. Melisia dismissed him shortly after that. Promising to speak with him again when she returned from the raid.
Kal returned home to the south side of Farninghold just east of the salt mine. Kal had been sent away from his family manor. He was a disappointment to his family. But worse he was a threat to his family's power and reputation. His father still did what he could to look after Kal but that was very little besides constructing a small hut for him to live and allowing him to work in the mines in hopes of Kal finally ascending. It had been six years since he had begun living alone. Perhaps if Melisia truly was able to help him maybe then he would be able to aspire to something but for now, he could only hope that things would change.
Kal stepped into his hut and tore off what remained of his shirt. Throwing it against the wall where it slid down and landed on top of a pair of spare picks. Without stopping he strode to the pallet made do as his bed and practically dived into it and slept.
An infinite plane of perfect gray spread out before Kal. Only one thing marred the strange gray, a small red figure ran into the distance. But Kal did not lose sight of it, its red skin shined, burning into his vision. He hated that fleeing light.
Kal’s eyes opened and he convulsed. His muscles all cramped at once forcing what little breath was in his lungs out in a spray of spit. After a few moments of excruciating pain, his body finally relaxed and he collapsed down onto his pallet. His heart was pounding but he wasn’t filled with fear. Was he angry? Things went well yesterday. Besides the rock ghoul of course. Perhaps it was Dalen’s Special Brew. It was an old bottle. Maybe it went bad. “Gods dammit, Dalen. Next time I'll make you give me a fresh one.”
He slept in the next morning after his nightmare or brew poisoning. Kal slept fitfully, not able to shake the strange agitation. It has subsided somewhat but he knew it would bother him for the rest of the day.
He dragged himself out of bed eventually and spent the first few minutes of his work at the mine being insulted by the foreman for being late but otherwise his day went about as well as any other. There had been no sighting of the Rock Ghoul since last night. Rock Ghouls normally manifest until they are either killed or they manage to kill a mortal. He wondered where it was now, ideally it was dead. Killed by another beast. But Kal thought it was more likely somebody would be declared missing today or tomorrow. It bothered him to think that the damned thing could have taken someone overnight. Perhaps he should have reported it, but he doubted anything would have been done about it.
He left the mines with the rest of the miners at the end of the day instead of hanging around. It wasn’t worth the risk. So he wandered.
Farninghold was not a big town, but like many towns throughout Yarnus, it had its secrets. Secrets that most of the high-rankers would rather forget. As he wandered he found himself moving towards what most of Farninghold’s residents would call the Refuse Lane. Though the residents that lived and worked there liked to call it the Orphan's Refuge. It was the tiny little corner of Farninghold that all the abandoned children or low-ranked people who were unlucky enough to acquire a class like serf or commoner. The people living here would ply their trades as best they could, though without classes their work would never be able to live up to the standards of a classed tradesperson. It was good enough however to support the small community. General supplies and equipment crafted by the Serfs or Non-crafters were perfect for the day-to-day lives of common folk. The only downside in Kal’s eyes was the fact that weapons and armor created by such unspecialized individuals were not of a high enough quality to withstand use by people of a higher level ten. They were simply not resilient enough, even Kal would eventually break a pick that he purchased from the stalls here. But a proper smith like Harlm could craft things of higher quality that could last decades or indefinitely if the man could acquire the materials to pull something like that off. But Harlm was stubborn and insisted on living in the Refuge with his wife who was another unlucky soul who had gotten the Serf class and his son who like Kal hadn’t ascended yet due to the boy being only seven. Getting anything above Inferior quality in the Refuge was very rare, as many merchants wouldn’t squander materials to lesser craftsmen or at the very least made the prices near unattainable by anyone there.
Orphan's Refuge was quiet. Though the street vendors were still at their stalls. Kal had thought of perhaps buying another opal lamp if he could find one here, but it didn’t appear that the smithy stall run by a dwarf named Harlm had been opened today. In its place was an embroidery stall, run by an elderly lady. She was sitting on a stool and from what Kal could tell she was writing down rather impressive mathematical calculations. Clearly engrossed in the problem Kal waited patiently for her to notice. After a few moments, she looked up and flinched. “oh, ssorry young man.” she said, her pitch dropping considerably toward the end as she recovered.
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Now that she was looking at him. Kal thought she looked haggard. He glanced around the stalls and found that the others looked the same.
“It’s fine elder, I only wished to ask why Harlm hasn’t opened his stall today?”
“Oh, it’s dreadful, absolutely dreadful. His son went missing yesterday Harlm is still looking for him right now. But I fear he won't find him. His son wasn’t the first poor child to go missing.”
“What!?, and what do you mean not the first? There have been others ?” Kal said, his face paling with his teeth clenched.
“Two other boys went missing last week. They were taken straight from their beds from what the families could tell.
“Gods, Do you know where Harlm is now? Maybe I could help in the search.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure, but he did say yesterday that he thought it was the red blades.” her shoulders fell. “Perhaps he went to them. I do hope he finds his boy but the red blades will be too much for him. No matter what his strength attribute is, he is no soldier.”
Without another word Kal left, running down out the east side of Orphan's Refuge and into the slums proper. Even in Orphan’s Refuge Kal was looked down upon. But Kal had known Harlm for years, he couldn’t really call him a friend but Harlm had always been fair with Kal. He didn’t deserve for his son to be stolen in the night. Kal doubted the Redblades really had anything to do with the child’s disappearance, but if Harlm found their hideout and started making threats there weren’t many faster ways to find yourself beaten to death or be left to rot somewhere in the mines. Kal doubted Harlm knew where the Redblade's hideout was. Though asking around it's not hard to find. Their boss owns a tavern called the Red Herring over on the east side. Most of the crew hang around there when they aren't busy robbing or dealing. Kal just hoped that it took Harlm long enough to find the place so that he would be able to get there in time to talk them out of killing him.
The Redblades thought of Kal as a funny curiosity. They often sought him out to simply torment him and beat him. They rarely did anything life-threatening. Just enough to bloody him up and leave him sore for a week or two. The times when Dalen made Kal drink his special brew were each after Kal managed to give back a hit or two. Being unclassed this rarely did enough to do real damage but it sure pissed them off.
Kal made good time. His stamina bottomed out four times on the way but as he rounded the last corner to the Redblades hideout he could already hear Harlm. Kal stopped, puffing as he waited for his stamina to recover, and listened.
"What have you scum done with m'boy!" The dwarfs' voices clear through the wooden walls of the building.
Fuck….
*crash*
The wall nearest to Kal shook. Followed by the sound of cracking wood. Bracing himself Kal checked his stamina
Stamina 40/120
Not enough, but hopefully, he wouldn't need to actually fight. Kal stepped around the open doorway to get a look inside worried that he would find Harlm dead.
Gods... What is going on... The place was a mess of shattered furniture and unconscious thugs. Five Redblades on the ground and bleeding. He knew the dwarf was strong for a smith but to fight this many of the Redblades was damn impressive. Kal's eyes were quickly drawn to two men struggling on the ground to get the upper hand.
Harlm | Smith 22 | Dwarf
?
Kal's jaw dropped. He didn't need his Identify to work to recognize the man currently losing in a grapple. It was " The Fox '' or whatever the Redblade leader called himself these days. He was a thin man with mid-length red hair. His face-
Harlm threw The Fox hard down into the ground and slammed a knee into his chest. Then began slamming his fist in the Redblade boss's face. Yeah, his face will probably be quite different after this.
"Tell me where e'is… and I'll leave some of yer teeth…in yer mouth," Halrm grunted between strikes.
Kal vowed not to get on Harlm's bad side. Definitely wouldn't end well. Kal was about to leave the man to it when he saw movement behind one of the shattered tables.
One of the wounded thugs was getting up.
Rogue 11 | Human
Kal looked back at Harlm to find him once struggling with The Fox who had managed to get one of his knives free and was trying to bring it to bear. While the wounded rogue finally got his feat drawing a knife, with one twisted arm dangling at his side, and began creeping towards the struggling pair.
Even a wounded level 11 was too much for Kal to take head on but he had to help Harlm.
Get ready Kal… you're probably gonna need one of Dalen’s brews after this. If you live through this…
Kal charged into the building and straight for the rogue. Distracted by the fight and his wounds the rogue didn’t see Kal as he was tackled. Kal’s shoulder throbbed from the impact but he grinned when the rogue let out a surprised shout as he fell. The rogue let out another shout this time with pain as he hit the ground onto his already broken arm. Though the pain didn’t keep him down he quickly attempted to slash at Kal, but Kal was already holding onto the rogue's arm for dear life. Almost thrown away immediately as their stat disparity quickly showed itself, but he held on.
Harlm and The Fox must have noticed the tackle as they suddenly separated making space.
“Kalum, what in the pits are you doin' er?” the dwarf half puffed, half yelled.
“Oh the freak is here… Leave, boy and we will simply punish you later.” The Fox sneered, sounding better than he looked.
Suddenly the rogue rolled to his feet, twisting his good arm out of Kal’s grip leaving Kal on the ground.
Kal's fight suddenly paused, he got to his feet. He looked over at Harlm who was looking worse for wear, he was bleeding from several deep slashes over his chest and he was breathing hard. His stamina was probably near zero.
The Fox on the other hand was quickly recovering his face growing less bruised by the second. His arrogant smile slid back over his face.
Kal didn’t think Harlm would last much longer, but the dwarf still charged The Fox again, retrieving his hammer along the way. But with the extra space, The Fox dashed back drawing an additional knife then twisting into a kick to Harlm's stomach.
The rogue turned away dismissing Kal as a threat, resheathed his dagger, and pulled out a red vial. Kal wasn't planning on abandoning Harlm now but he needed a plan. He scanned the room for a weapon and spotted a shortsword under some debris. Kal dashed towards it and reached down to grab the sword but dropped it as a knife bounced off the sword's hilt slicing across his knuckles. Kal turned and saw the rogue put the vial between his teeth and was reaching for another knife. It was now or never so Kal dived for the sword and clumsily rolled to his feet just as the second blade left the rogue's hand.