Earon made sure to take in the sights and smells of the Rye as he rode through it, unsure when he might be back.
He had been scared but determined when he made his way back through the Spruce Gale, but now he marched into it with confidence.
By the time he reached the Yarges, he had unlocked the skill riding and gained another point in both it and navigator. Earon knew his gains wouldn’t continue to be as easy as he leveled but was grateful for anything that got him closer to being at a respectable level.
Warlock – Level 4
Skills & Abilities - Polearms (5) -
Navigator (4)
Arcane knowledge (1)
Rune Crafting (Body Transmutation) (2)
Mana Sense (1)
Riding(2)
Survivalist(1)
Spells - Magic resistance (5)
Even as a nineteen-year-old at level 10, Earon hadn’t been anything special. That hadn’t bothered him though, it wasn’t as if he was trying to revolutionize farming. However, gaining levels seemed a little more important now. Not only would being so weak make him less desirable to other adventurers, but it would also put a target on his back.
Earon’s mind wandered and he almost didn’t notice a figure hobbling along the road ahead. Cloaked in black, the figure was hunched in half, making its way down the road at a crawl.
Without intent, Earon had trotted up beside the figure within moments of spotting them.
“Hello,” came a soft, raspy voice as Earon passed, causing him to pull his reigns to a stop.
Turning back, all Earon could see beyond the black veil that shrouded the figure, was shadow.
“I had heard you awoke. Interesting times these are, that’s for certain.”
“Excuse me, do I know you?”
“Doubtful, but that isn’t important.” A crooked, wrinkled finger extended from beyond the black rag-like robes. “You should never have been born, but here you are. A walking contradiction. The sisters figured you would be shriveled up and gaunt of flesh, unable to grow muscle or walk on two legs, but now you even ride.” The figure cackled and bobbed. “Quite the spectacle!”
“What are you talking about, foul thing?” Earon demanded, his grip tightening around his spear.
“Oh, nothing, or perhaps something? Not that it matters, not yet at least.” The cowl fell back, revealing a shriveled and shrunken head that looked more like a hairless bird than a human. The creature grinned blackened teeth and flickered her reptilian eyes. “I’ll be watching you.” She warned, waging a finger. “A little gift, for entertainment's sake. I do so hate it when the sisters get their way.” The figure snickered and vanished in a puff of green smoke.
Rolling from out of the green smoke as it dissipated, came a vial filled with a green liquid of a similar shade as the smoke.
Dotty reared, almost toppling Earon to the ground, and he was forced to dismount her before reapproaching the mysterious vial.
Drink me. A messily scribbled note read on the vial.
Whilst he wasn’t about to drink the mysterious vial, something about it told Earon not to leave it behind.
Warily eyeing Earon as he returned, Dotty brayed and took a step back.
“You really don’t like this thing do you,” Earon questioned, easing forward. “I don't blame you, but It won’t hurt you,” he added, placing his hand on her muzzle and gently gliding it to her crest.
I hope not at least.
It took a moment, but gradually Dotty calmed, and Earon carefully remounted.
Not sure if he was excited, or nervous, Earon soon arrived at the outskirts of Caedstad. He had made a promise, and before heading back to the Withering Vine, picked up the wreath he had planned to.
Setting it down upon a small hill just outside of town, Earon said his goodbyes. He had planned to say goodbye to Alyssia, but it had become far more than that. Tears traced down his cheeks.
Perhaps it was fated. Back in Market Square, a little over a week ago, and what now felt like a lifetime ago, Earon had lost his class. Now, he said goodbye to everything else that had mattered during that past life of his.
Ralli Tad and others still waited for him, and he knew he always had a home to go back to. But Earon couldn’t help but shake the feeling, the feeling that he wouldn't be back, at least not for a very long time.
Chuffing upon Earon’s return, the excitable horse cheered him up a little, and Earon gave it a scratch behind its neck as he led Dotty back into town. It was time to find some distractions.
“Come on, just a few more days. I just gave you another sixty coppers.”
“Yeah, and you spent twice that much since the last time you managed to cough up some coin. Unless you get some real coin soon, you’ll owe me more than just a little change!”
Fane was draped over the bar arguing with a large, bald, white-bearded man.
“We’ll get you your money, okay?”
In a nearby booth, Iliana and Dordan were hunched over their table with gloomy expressions and empty mugs.
“No contracts and no mead. Sometimes I miss the barrens.” Dordan wallowed.
“Hello,” Earon approached the booth with a wave.
“The kid? Thought you went back to that village of yours.”
“Oh, hey Earon,” Iliana said, barely raising her eyes.
“Well, about that.”
“You, what are you doing here?” Fane said, returning from the bar.
“Well, I was ju-”
“No mead, no food, no nothing,” Fane continued. “He did say we could stay in the stables for half the price though.”
“The stables?” Iliana moaned.
“That’s basically like home for you, anyway, isn’t it?”
Iliana’s hissed and revealed her fangs.
“Easy, I’m only joking.” Fane waved his hands.
“I was kind of hoping I could take you up on that offer.” Earon softly muttered.
“Huh?” Iliana grunted and sat upright. “What did you just say?”
“The offer, from before. You know, about joining your group.”
“No, no, no, the last thing we need is to be babysitting someone who doesn’t know the first thing about adventuring,” Fane said, dismissively waving his hands as he dove into a booth seat.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Look, we’re about to be out on our asses. He’s our ticket.” Iliana retorted, pointing at Earon. “We need a caster, and unless you’ve got a better idea, he’s our only option.”
“But he can’t even cast spells, or had you forgotten?”
“Spells smells, who needs ‘em? Besides, Earon, he’s special, I just know it. Who have you ever heard of with that kind of magic resistance?”
Nodding with his oversized arms crossed, Dordan interjected. “I say we give the kid a chance. Takes a lot of guts to charge a necromancer. Besides, if we don't get some ale soon...” Dordan trailed off, grumbling to himself.
“What? Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? Do I need to remind you two he’s only level 4? My nephew is level 4, he’s six and plays with his boogers.”
“So, he got off to a rough start. Besides, if you’re willing to risk your life, leveling can be a lot quicker than usual.”
“Exactly,” Iliana agreed. “I left home at level 11, with 16 archery after years of shooting targets. Within a year of taking contracts, I had reached level 14 and capped my archery at 20. Nothing compares to real combat, and at his level, he should advance quickly.”
“So, what if he does? He’s still got to survive, and I won’t be responsible for watching his back!”
“I don’t expect anyone to,” Earon said. “I’m the one making this choice and I take full responsibility for the consequences.”
“Sounds like the kid’s made up his mind.” Dordan nodded.
“Look, Fane. I get it. But Earon’s got promise, and like you’ve always said, trust in a chimera’s intuition. Not only that but we're two months away from the Hunt. Signing up for it requires a caster, and with Earon here, we’ll be able to. The bounties alone will pay more than months of these shitty contracts, and if we manage to land a ranking, we’ll be set for a while and might even earn a badge.”
“Again, are you forgetting he can’t cast spells? How exactly do you plan to sign him up as our caster?”
Pfff, “they don’t need to know that. All he needs to do is pass a mana channeling test.”
“And can he do that?” Fane questioned, setting all three of their gazes on Earon.
Earon’s eyes darted across the group whilst he shifted uncomfortably. “You’re asking me?”
“Earon, what’s your class?” Iliana asked, inching forward.
“Warlock, apparently.”
“Never heard of it.” Dordan huffed.
“Neither, but what do we know?” Iliana said, jumping up from her seat. “We need to ask someone with knowledge on these kinds of things. And I know just where to find them!”
The Temple of Arks towered over a small, cobbled courtyard flanked by rather ostentatious townhouses – at least when compared to the more destitute streets around it. And if you called Caedstad home and had money, you either lived either here, or by the Lord’s Keep.
Marching by, a priest dressed in white carried a bronze statue of Arks – a pegasus with uncannily human-like facial features. Following the man came two dozen shirtless men and women whipping themselves across their backs and chests, whilst the priest chanted in an unfamiliar language.
Noticing Earon fascination, Iliana whispered, “Flagellants. They think if they walk around whipping themselves, they’ll be able to unlock a specialty class. The problem is that religion-based classes are reliant on your devotion. Unless you truly believe and hand yourself over to your god, no amount of whipping yourself will unlock anything.”
“All that just for a class?”
“Not just a class. A caster class. Priests, clerics, paladins, monks, you name it, they’re all casters and if you manage to gain one of these classes, you’ll find hundreds of groups begging you to join them. It’s basically guaranteed coin.”
"And all they need to do is believe in their god?”
“Not just belief. Unquestionable faith in their god’s word. If say your god asked you to dive off the head of a mountain, would you, do it? That is the kind of faith required to unlock religion-based classes. To be honest, I've always found the type to unlock those classes insufferable, myself.”
“I’ll bet.” Earon nodded.
Stone arches marked the temple entrance, with another massive stone Arks Statue overhead. Inside, a priest spoke in the same foreign tongue behind an altar, whilst a dozen sat along benches with bowed heads.
“This way,” Iliana said, dragging Earon by his wrist.
A passage led down the side of the building, bringing them to a dreary-looking, bald man.
“Can I help you?” The priest croaked, raising his heavy-looking eyes.
“We’re interested in visiting the library,” Iliana said with a broad grin.
The priest tapped a collection tray to his side. “Donation?”
Nudging Earon, Iliana shrugged.
“I’m broke too.”
“What about that ring,” Iliana replied, eyeing the silver band on Earon’s index finger.
“What, no!”
“I could hold onto it for you and return it once you can afford a proper donation.” The priest smiled.
Earon glared down at Iliana; whilst the chimera did her best to look back with a pleading expression.
“Fine,” Earon huffed, dropping the ring into the priest's outstretched palm.
“Acceptable. You may go, but please, go straight to the caretaker once inside.”
Inside, rows of books packed into overcrowded shelves seemed to stretch on forever, and Earon was amazed to see that this much information had ever been penned to paper, let alone resided in one place.
A skeletal-looking man wandered the grandiose halls, quietly running his hand along binders and occasionally placing a book from a trolly he pulled into the spots he found.
“Caretaker?” Iliana said as they approached the feeble-looking, old man.
“HUH!?”
“CARETAKER!”
The old man turned with a startled look and shushed Iliana. “You’re in a library, young lady.”
Iliana’s eyes rolled. “We’re looking for something, can you help us?”
“HUH?”
“WE’RE LOOKING FOR SOMETHING, CAN YOU HELP US!”
SHHH!
The caretaker pointed toward a sign marked, “Quiet please,” and then cleared his throat. “What are you looking for?”
“A book on magical classes,” Earon said.
“Ah, you must be after Fonald Jiggleboot’s tome on all things magical; volume 47, classes, domains, and specialty choices. Right this way.” The caretaker said, turning to waddle down one of the massive corridors without notice.
“So, apparently he can hear now?” Iliana sneered.
Shrugging, Earon skipped to catch up to the surprisingly fast old man.
It took the old man barely a minute to scan the hundreds of books tightly packed on the shelf before stopping and with great effort dragging out a tome almost the size of his torso from it.
“No bending, folding, fidgeting, or licking, understood?” The old man said, handing Earon the book. “I expect it back in the condition I provided it.”
“Of course,” Earon nodded in agreement.
"Thank you," Iliana added.
"WHAT?"
Groaning, Iliana grabbed Earon's elbow. "Let's go, and don't you say anything."
"I wasn't going to..."
Whilst they weren’t numbered, there must have been thousands of pages in the impressively thick book. Each page could hold one class or several, from what they could tell. Each with a description, known spells and abilities, and even an illustration for some. A few even held a blurb of the classes' history, and where it was believed to have first been discovered.
Some classes had entire chapters delegated to them, like mage which had specialty classes not just dedicated to each element, as Earon had believed but just about every color imaginable for the element, reminding Earon of Rudis – who likely held a specialty class like White Lightning Mage.
Since there didn’t seem to be any order to the book, at least none either Earon or Iliana was able to figure out, it took over two hours before they finally found the page labeled “Warlock,” having to take their time to ensure they didn’t accidentally miss it.
*****
Warlock.
The warlock is believed to be the male version of a witch (although, this has never been confirmed).
None is known about the warlock, and many question whether the class really exists or not. The famous scholar and wizard of Nunarn and master of the arcane school of dictation, Olutez Rittlebran once being quoted as saying. “The warlock is the epitome of thoughtless thought. We believe it should exist, and therefore it does. Without ever questioning the reason behind such absent logic. Truth is, the warlock is just as likely to exist as the two-headed, blight-colored toad. Because the two-headed blight-birthed toad exists, so should the other?”
Although a damning statement, it should be noted that despite his aptitude, Olutez has been known to ramble, often making little sense himself.
*****
“That’s it?” Earon barked.
SHHH droned the caretaker from somewhere out of sight.
Iliana stared blankly at the page.
"Ilianan?" Earon asked, his hand hovering over to her shoulder.
"Yes," she finally replied after an awkwardly long moment, nodding slowly.
"Something wrong? You're acting a little strange."
"No... nothing," Iliana turned her head to Earon, an oddly insincere smile plastered across it. "Nothing at all."
"Okay then," Earon nodded.
“This is good news, we know you have a magical class," Iliana said, sounding distant. "With this, you should be able to pass a mana channeling test, even if you don’t know how.”
“Is something wrong? You sound a little off.” Earon's brow raised.
“Everything is fine, Earon. We've found what we were looking for. This is proof enough that you're a caster. Besides you do exist, don't you?”
"I do," Earon slowly nodded with a frown.
"See," Iliana smiled, white. fanged teeth on display. "So, we're done here."
Earon sighed, but Iliana's shift in mood and the strange book made about as much logic as anything else that had happened to him since leaving Ryewood. “What about witches? Maybe we can learn something from their page?”
Iliana froze a second, an uneasy look in her eyes, before returning a stiff smile and nodding. Her fingers delicately flicked through the pages in search of references to witches, but only a couple minutes later an incessant tapping reverberated across the table they sat at.
It was the old caretaker, pointing to an ornate clock above them, below which the library’s closing time was marked as 6 p.m.
Earon wanted to argue, since the arm was still a couple of minutes off, but relented as the stoney-faced caretaker tapped again. They likely wouldn’t have found it in a couple of minutes anyway.
“We found what we came for anyway,” Iliana said, nodding with distant eyes at Earon. “You’re a caster, even if you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with your class. More than what most can say.” She added.
Leaving the temple, they passed the marching flagellants as they across the courtyard. “At least you’re not one of them,” Iliana said, a hint of her usual playfulness returning to her tone.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You’re also going to make us a lot of money. So, there’s that too.” Iliana smiled.
“Glad I could be of assistance,” Earon groaned, but in all honesty, it was the best he had felt in a while. Besides Iliana’s strange behavior, he had learned that he was a real caster. That alone basically guaranteed he would be able to continue getting work as an adventurer, assuming he didn't get himself killed.
“I guess we're going to have to work on training you now.”