PART IV - THE DEMON PIT

While Callie made her way towards the training field, joined by Ambria, Lhawni and Jesca, the Cheetahkin Ranger/Beastmaster received yet another reveal. Jesca stumbled quickly for a shady spot under a tree to ride out the vertigo, while the others took up seated positions close to her to be supportive. The unicorn followed along dutifully, likewise sitting in the grass close to Jesca.

“How are you feeling,” Ambria asked after a few minutes, patting Jesca’s arm while her head slowly stopped swimming.

“I’ll be fine,” the Catkin growled. Callie offered Jesca her waterskin, but she waved it away, almost annoyed at all the attention. Before anyone could ask she said, “A new skill called Camouflage. It’s channeled and lets me blend into my surroundings, including anything natural I may be wearing or holding. Not a lot of details on future tiers, though, just that it will ‘improve’.”

“Do you want to try it out?” Callie asked in a conspiratorial whisper. “Your new skill, I mean.”

“Callie!” Ambria snapped, looking around as if worried they’d be overheard.

“What? We’re pretty close to the training field, and it’s not a combat skill.”

“She is right,” Lhawni pointed out, shrugging. “There’s no real risk.”

Jesca seemed to ponder it for a few seconds, and then decided to give it a try. Ambria glared a warning, reminding her tersely that it was channeled, and to not go too long since it was a brand new skill. Jesca acknowledged Ambria’s concern, then focused, drawing a pair of deep breaths to center herself. There was a wibble-wobble of the light, and suddenly Jesca was almost perfectly blended against the tree she was leaning against, as well as the ground. If you looked hard, you could see her, especially if she moved, but if she was still and you had no idea she was there, the Catkin was effectively invisible.

“That’s amazing!” Lhawni cried as Jesca broke the spell, flowing back into normal vision.

“I could make out your metal buckles,” Ambria pointed out. “They aren’t very big and you’re in the shade, so they didn’t stand out, but they also weren’t included in the effect.”

“It must be like Shaman shapeshifting,” Lhawni said. “We can’t do it with metal, as it will just drop to the ground unless it’s inside a bag of natural material. You might have to have some changes made to your armor to have no buckles, like mine.”

Jesca nodded. “Good to know. I’ll mention it to Master Trainer Thorn later today. As for the spell, it needs quite a bit of mana to channel, but I’m sure it’s only because I haven’t used it. Once I get better, I can see some interesting possibilities, especially with ambush tactics like the Duelists use.”

“I’m pretty sure they actually get the same skill,” Callie pointed out, “or something similar. I heard one of them talking to Nola about it, comparing it to her natural chameleon skin trait as a Lizardkin. Unfortunately, Nola’s racial trait doesn’t work on anything she might be wearing, so she’d need to be naked to really make her’s useful.”

The ten-minute bell rang out, and the foursome rose to continue their trek towards the training field. Callie could tell Jesca was feeling exhausted, the morning’s excitement, coupled with the constant reveals, slowly taking their toll. Maybe after lunch, she could be encouraged to take a quick nap? With her sleeping metabolism, thirty minutes would probably refresh her for the rest of the day.

Understandably, Jesca received a lot of stares and whispers from people due to the unicorn that was quietly following along. Unlike the day before when they arrived in camp, the foal seemed much less skittish around other people, although Callie did hear a fairly regular ‘yes, you can trust that one, too’ being muttered under Jesca’s breath. Those that hadn’t seen the unicorn the day before stood transfixed in awe as they all walked past, for some having a childhood tale suddenly come true before them.

“Ladies!” a deep voice called out, as Koda waved to everyone as he walked towards them. He glanced briefly in confusion at the foal and then Jesca. “It’s good to see you, Jesca. Callie was quite worried when you didn’t arrive for breakfast. I heard you leave this morning, and briefly return to get dressed, but had no more knowledge of your whereabouts.”

“It’s been a strange morning,” Jesca said glumly. “I think I may need some time by myself this afternoon, at least for a little while.”

The Bearkin instantly inquired as to what was wrong, and while they walked, Jesca, with help from Callie and the others, filled him in on the new class, and why there was a unicorn trotting along with them. His huge eyes went even wider with the news.

“The Beastmasters are real? By that, I mean, they are an actual class? I always assumed that, if the stories were true, it was just someone with a strong animal affinity, not an actual class. And a second class on top of your Ranger one, too? My dear Jesca, I am both in awe and quite excited for you. You must keep me informed on how your training progresses.”

Jesca mumbled a general acknowledgement as they all crested the hill, seeing that the Bunkerball field in front of the stands had received a makeover during the night, surely the work of the Geomancers. There was now a two-meter high earthen wall encircling an oval area about twenty meters in diameter. On the outside of the wall was a lip that everyone could stand on, allowing them to see over. Several wood crates had been stacked in a neat pile for the smaller races to use as boosters, so they could get high enough to see. The unicorn stretched to look over the top as well, needing a small booster to stand on.

Inside the ring, at one end, were Warlock recruits Fynisse and Dunni, along with two Fairies in robes that Callie didn’t recognize. On the other end of the make-shift arena was Thorn, along with the Warlock trainer, Terrin, and Pixyl, of all people. The Pixie was decked out fully in her armor, bouncing up and down as if she was warming up for a boxing match. She was punching at the air, squatting to limber up her knees and fluttering her wings madly.

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“What’s Pixyl doing in there?” Callie asked, not really directing the question to anyone.

“I dunno,” Ambria replied with a shrug.

Before the speculation could continue, Vanis tapped Callie on the shoulder, lightly clearing his throat.

“What’s up?”

The Elf smiled gently, Juniper standing dutifully next to him, likewise wearing a warm smile. “I do not wish to intrude, Corporal, but might you be willing to allow Juniper to join you in spectating? My presence is required as part of this demonstration.” Vanis gently nodded towards the end with his two fellow Warlock recruits.

“Of course! You didn’t even need to ask, Vanis. You know that.”

“Yes, well, manners in all things,” the Warlock replied regally, a sly smirk on his face.

Juniper stepped up to the arena wall, taking a spot between Callie and the unicorn, with Jesca on her Companion’s other side. Loki, wanting a good view, was proudly perched on Juniper’s shoulder, raising his arm as if shielding eyes he didn’t actually have. Around them, Callie could hear a dozen whispers of other recruits wondering about the presence of the unicorn. Some were simple, polite statements of curiosity, but more than a couple were either rude or downright crass, mentioning Jesca’s presumed sexual history. One asshat even offered to ‘fix’ the ‘problem’. Before Callie could walk over and firmly thump him for that statement, someone beat her to it and the guy was soundly smacked on the back of his head. From the look on Jesca’s face, Callie could tell she had heard some of the comments, and while she didn’t outwardly show anything, a few stung for sure.

Thorn and Trainer Terrin retreated from Pixyl towards the Warlock end of the arena, leaving her bouncing in eager anticipation for whatever was being planned as she shook out her hands. They both stopped in the middle of the circle, and Kyra quickly ran out to give Thorn an amplification sigil, followed by a second to Terrin, before retreating and hopping deftly over the wall. Thorn raised his paw, calling for silence, clearing his throat a few times for emphasis, as slowly the chattering of the crowd faded.

“Good morning,” Thorn began, his voice echoing around the arena area. “We’re going to start with a general announcement, and this is important, so please listen and heed my warning.”

Instantly, any remaining murmurs and whispers ceased.

“For reasons we don’t understand yet, one of our recruits awoke this morning having received a second class. Honestly, I didn’t know this was possible, but that is what happened.” There was a round of mutterings, a few people making the connection and looking towards Jesca. “Specifically,” Thorn continued, “that recruit woke up with the additional class of Beastmaster.”

Almost instantly, there was a flurry of conversations among the Beastkin, as people recalled the ancient legends of the Beastmaster that led their ancestors to freedom. Even though not specifically mentioned, everyone that hadn’t made the initial connection now realized Thorn was referring to Jesca, which in turn provided a vague explanation for the unicorn’s presence.

Thorn cleared his throat again. “For most of the Beastkin, that word has some historical significance, so if you’re unsure what that means, please take it up with one of them. As it relates to the matter at hand, the unicorn foal that was rescued yesterday has bonded with the recruit, and should be considered a familiar, much like the plant companions the Sylvans use. Under no circumstances shall anyone torment the unicorn, nor even touch it, without express permission from her Bonded master. Do not cross me on this. You will not like the result.” Thorn let that warning hang in the air for several long seconds.

“We are researching how this could have happened,” Thorn eventually continued, “but in the meantime, I don’t want to hear any speculation or mean-spirited comments directed toward or about the recruit. If I do, it will not be a good day for you. We’re here to maximize every recruit’s potential, regardless of class, or in this case, classes, and I won’t have anyone undermining that. If you have concerns, you bring them to me directly. I have nothing more to say on this matter at this time. Trainer Terrin, the field is yours.”

“Thank you, Master Trainer,” Terrin began, as Thorn retreated to join the other Warlocks, taking command before the crowd’s mumbles regarding Jesca could get too loud. “For the past two weeks, all of you have trained and practiced your new skills, and it is time to start putting that work to the test. This week, we shall begin with combat against two types of Demons, specifically Iron-tier versions of the Imp and the Fiend. These are the two most common types of Demon on the battlefield. In fact, Iron and Bronze Tier Imps account for well over half of their numbers.”

Vanis had taken a few steps forward and laid down a Ritual Circle. While Terrin was speaking, he focused and conjured up a simple Imp. Held in place by the circle, the Imp hissed and spit for a few seconds before Vanis’s will overtook it and it calmed, under his control. Over the previous week, the Warlocks had all worked to learn to summon and control their Demons. For safety, the Warlocks had secluded themselves to an area about two kilometers from camp, on the off chance something was to get loose. Thus, this was the first time anyone had really seen an Imp, especially close up.

The little creature only stood about as tall as Pixyl, with sickly-brown skin and a skinny, lanky build. But each hand sported four long fingers ending in long, vicious claws. Its head was almost all mouth, and its mouth was almost all teeth. Even though it was simply standing there, fully under Vanis’s control, you could tell it was fast and vicious.

During another of their lunchtime girl-chats, Fynisse had discussed how she was able to control Demons a little bit. One couldn’t give them complex orders, except for some of the higher-tier ones. For Imps, they were pretty dumb and she was essentially limited to ‘stand there’ and ‘follow me’ and ‘attack that’. Any use of organized tactics was almost impossible, because once ordered to attack, Imps did so with reckless abandon, unless ordered to do something else. Fiends were a little brighter, but not much.

The mutterings and gasps in the crowd finally eased as the initial shock of seeing the Imp wore off. Terrin gestured to it. “The Imp is a feral attacker; a Striker. It will come at you fast and hard, doing what it can to shred you apart. As we demonstrate, try not to watch the fight, so much as watch how it fights.” He gestured again to Vanis, stepping aside. “You may begin.”

Vanis cleared his throat and straightened, a nervous look on his face. “Are … are you ready, Corporal-Major?”

Callie looked from the Imp towards the other end of the arena ring. There, her tiny friend had just summoned a magenta shield in one hand, and her humming and glowing green sword in her other. They meant for the Imp to attack her!

“Bring it!” Pixyl hissed, lowering herself into a crouch.

Swallowing once, his face still obviously worried, Vanis glanced at Trainer Terrin. The Elf nodded encouragingly in return. “Very well,” Vanis said, swallowing hard. He pushed the simple mental command … “Attack!”