~Thorben~
Thorben had taken to wearing a light hooded cloak when he was outside, as he was worried about what his appearance might do if travelers wandered by. Mostly, it had just been Aldwin and him staying in the inn. Though there had been a few traveling merchants and their guards that had passed through. When this occurred, they would train in the stables, out of sight, and Thorben would eat in his room. He had no desire to test out just how much trouble his Questionable Intentions debuff would cause him. As he was going through his various sword forms, he noticed figures approaching. Thorben blinked a few times and looked again as they drew closer. It was still there. He rubbed his eyes. Had he hit his head during the morning sparring match? At least he was done with that sneaking around the barn! That had been a brutal few days. Aldwin, in his typical intentionally vague fashion, insisted that he needed to sneak around the barn for a few days until he developed an anti-scrying skill. When Thorben pressed him on it, he said that a person had to be actively trying to hide when a scrying skill was used to develop a counter to it. It wasn’t until the end of the third day of crouch walking around a barn that a prompt freed him from the torturous leg workout:
Skill Gained! Magical VPN: You are now unable to be located or viewed via magical means without your express permission. Scrying spells are sent bouncing across Baherune in a completely random manner until the spell mana exhausts itself or the spell caster ceases casting.
Aldwin had tried to explain the skill by using analogies from his home world, but eventually just told Thorben that it would help keep him safe from other people using magical means to observe him. That had been good enough for Thorben. He gazed back towards the approaching people. Was that a floating dwarf?
It was about midday when Tanrin, the girl, and what Thorben learned was a gnome sitting on a large burlap sack on a floating fabric, arrived at the inn. Thorben ran to his brother and picked him up in an embrace.
“Damn, you’ve gotten fast. It’s good to see you up and moving, brother.” Tanrin told him.
“It’s good to see you, too. We need to talk. It seems you have a story to tell, and a lot has happened here as well,” Thorben said, pushing his hood back. Mia remained silent, her eyes widening slightly in recognition of the changes.
As the hideous rug sank to the ground, the gnome stepped forward and held out his hand in greeting, “Hello, you, you, you must be Thorben. I’m Jerald Kubeck, but I, I, I insist you call me Mr. Kubeck. All, all, all of my friends do, and I have, have, have heard enough about you from your, your, your brother to know that we are, are, are friends. Now, where can we start, start, start our experiments?”
Thorben shook the small gnome’s hand, surprised that the gnome was so nonchalant about meeting him, and glanced over at his brother. Tanrin was doing his best to hide his smirk, but Thorben knew him well enough to see through the act. “Greetings, Mr. Kubeck. Let’s get everyone settled and we can talk more.” He led the party to the stable so they could take care of their horses. He matched paces with his brother. “Tanrin, care to explain?”
“Let’s get the horses and rug settled and go inside to talk,” Tanrin said. He reached up and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We have some new information that I think you will like.” Thorben insisted Mia show Mr. Kubeck into the inn for a midday meal, and helped to unsaddle the horses, gave her horse a long brushing, inspected its hooves, and topped off the hay and water. While the brothers did this, Tanrin gave him a quick update, and Thorben did likewise. As they finished up and headed out of the stable, Tanrin embraced his brother again. “You gave me a scare,” he backed up and punched him in the arm. “Don’t do it again!”
Thorben exaggerated his injury and rubbed his arm as if in immense pain. “Okay, fine, ruin all my fun. I won’t do it again.” With that, the brothers moved forward, and the past was the past. They joked and laughed, making up for lost time, as they walked to the inn.
As they opened the door, the joyous reunion ended. Mia was doing her best to guide Jerald to a table. Alfred had interposed himself between Aldwin and Jerald, with his hand threateningly placed on Aldwin’s chest. He was doing a good job of blocking the route to Jerald. Aldwin was barely allowing himself to be restrained by Alfred, and was clenching his jaw, red faced. Thorben’s eyes took in the situation instantly. It seemed that things were going to deteriorate quickly.
“Ahh, so I see we’ve met Mr. Kubeck.” Tanrin said with exaggerated mirth. “Barkeep, a round of your best caife for all of my friends, on me!” Jerald’s eyes perked up at this, and he was distracted from whatever it was he had been saying to Aldwin, allowing for Mia to guide him successfully to a seat in the far corner of the inn. Tanrin walked over to Aldwin. “I’d like to cover my friend Aldwin’s tab tonight as a thank you for helping my brother.”
Aldwin’s eyes narrowed. “I see the game you’re playing, but I’ll enjoy a drink at your expense before I strangle that babbling idiot.” He turned and sat back down on his bench. Alfred shook his head and began getting the water kettle heating for the caifes.
“Quick thinking, good job,” Thorben said to his brother, taking a seat next to Aldwin.
“I’ll be right back. I need to grab the caife beans. You will not believe how good these are!” Tanrin indicated for Alfred to wait on preparing the beans, that he wanted to him to use some he picked up in Eleytol. Alfred agreed, and he soon returned, shouldering the large burlap bag that the gnome had been sitting on. “Crystal said she wrote some basic instructions for preparing caife with these beans. They should be inside the bag. Would you mind storing this for me while we are here?”
Alfred appeared to ponder deeply, “On one condition. I get to partake in this caife whenever you do.” He couldn’t hide the good-natured joke from his eyes.
Tanrin agreed and soon everyone was sipping from a tankard of caife, which even Alfred admitted was dramatically better than the swill he had served before. Thorben noticed Alfred had added a dash of alcohol to Aldwin’s but wisely chose not to say anything. Though when Aldwin took his first sip, he said, “Not the best Irish Coffee I’ve ever had, a bit weak, but it is the best in a couple of millennia.”
After tensions had time to lower, Thorben looked over at Aldwin. “What’s the deal between you and that, Mr. Kubeck?”
“Is that what old Jerry is going by these days?” Aldwin said, his jaw stiffening slightly. “I’ve known Jerry for a long time. He’s always had a gift for getting under my skin. It seems it hasn’t faded after all these years. We’ll be fine.” Aldwin brought the conversation to a close.
Seeing that Aldwin wanted some solitude, he made his way over to where the others sat. “How’s the caife, Mr. Kubeck? Or can I call you Jerry?”
Jerry’s eyes seemed to gain a bit more clarity, and he looked over at Thorben as if mulling it over. “Yes, people have, have, have called me that before. Hmmmm…. yes, you may call, call, call me that.” He stated, as if giving permission to an unruly child, eyes returning his normal state of a twitchy reduced glaze.
“So what did you learn in the Great Library?” Thorben asked.
“Great, great, great library? Ahh, you mean my, my, my book club! Interesting things indeed. Did you know, know, know that the current king enjoys reading, reading, reading trashy romance novels?” His tone was one of academic seriousness.
“I meant about the Order of Buanaì, and about my spell casting.” Thorben said, his frustration level rising. He could already tell why his brother had been smirking earlier. This man was the very definition of vexation.
“Ah, yes, yes, yes. We learned that my friend, friend, friend prophesied how the world, world, world was going to end.”
Tanrin interrupted before Thorben could reach out and choke Jerry, “We found a reference to a Mazoga, and a prophecy he made which included the world Buanaì. He is convinced he knows this guy from the beginning of the world.” He discreetly tapped the side of his head and made his eyes look loopy. The age old universal sign of crazy as shit.
Thorben looked over just in time to see Aldwin drop his tankard of caife all over the floor. “What did you just say, Tanrin?”
Jerry looked over, “Oh didn’t I, I, I tell you? Mazoga made a, a, a prediction about the world’s, world’s, world’s end? He started a, a, a club too! The Buanaì. Have you, you, you seen him lately?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Son of a bitch,” Aldwin said. “Is this some kind of twisted reunion?”
It was as Aldwin said this that a prompt filled Thorben’s vision.
Quests Updated!
He quickly opened his HUD.
Quest Journal:
Primary Objectives:
Unknown Stalker:
Discover the truth behind the Order of Buanaì and their interest in you.
You’ve discovered that the Order of Buanaì is led by a person named Mazoga. Track down Mazoga, or a follower, you can question alive, and determine his interest in you.
Secondary Objectives:
Duke McDingleberry: Help the citizens of Drazalar. Investigate the bandits’ claims of ducal support by speaking with the Duke in his throne room. Take appropriate action. Time Remaining: 14 days (Reward forfeited if not completed in allotted time.)
Thorben shared this information with the group. “Any chance that you know where to find Mazoga?” No one said anything, until Aldwin said “No, but I can say with near certainty that he won’t be in Drazalar. There was always something off about him, something dark. He was originally from an arid country, and always complained of the weather here when we first ported in.” The last phrase included a pointed look at Thorben, which he immediately understood.
“Yes, yes, yes, I told you this was from, from, from the beginning,” Jerry said, looking at Tanrin. Thorben’s eyes widened, and he glanced over at Aldwin for verification.
“Yup, him too,” Aldwin said after he took a generous swig of his caife.
“What are you three talking about? The beginning? Ported in? Somebody better help me understand or no more of my precious caife.” Tanrin half joked, but only half.
Thorben took the time to explain to both Tanrin and Mia the reality of the world they were in, along with the circumstances of Aldwin, Natalia, Jerry, and Mazoga’s current life.
“Well shit, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder.” Tanrin said, a little more pale than he was before the talk. “Anyone else want an ale?” Alfred brought everyone an ale, except Aldwin, who got a non-Irish caife.
As Tanrin and Mia adjusted to their newfound knowledge, Thorben, Jerry, and Aldwin debated on the next course of action. This consisted of Aldwin advising Thorben, Jerry getting everything sidetracked, the use of active meditation techniques to prevent violence, rinse, and repeat. They eventually came to the agreement that there simply wasn’t enough information yet to track down Mazoga, and that they should focus on his secondary quest:
Secondary Objectives:
Duke McDingleberry: Help the citizens of Drazalar. Investigate the bandits’ claims of ducal support by speaking with the Duke in his throne room. Take appropriate action. Time Remaining: 14 days (Reward forfeited if not completed in allotted time.)
Jerry had been helpful in this regard. He’d had interaction with this Duke McGuire. He described the man as a “sleazy, slime ball, piece of dung not fit to serve as an oversized bladed dildo receptacle.” Whatever that meant. Though even Aldwin spit out his coffee in laughter, but still refused to clarify the meaning.
After Tanrin and Mia rejoined the conversation, he summarized their conversation. “So we agree then? We will head to confront this Duke McGuire? When do we leave?” Thorben asked.
“Point, point, point of clarification. Who are you referring to when, when, when you say ‘we’?” Jerry said.
“Well, I was thinking about Tanrin, Mia, Aldwin, me, and you. Strength in numbers.”
“I see, see, see. I am afraid, afraid, afraid I will not be, be, be accompanying you. I am a conscientious objector, a, a, a pacifist. I will, will, will support your endeavor but will, will, will focus on placing my house, house, house.”
“Oh, okay.” Thorben said, a bit bewildered.
Tanrin was next to speak up. “I’m not sure that we should drag Mia into a potential conflict. It is her choice, but she hasn’t had the training we have.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Thorben stated. Not wanting to decide for someone else without their input, he turned to face Mia. “What are your thoughts?”
Mia looked surprised that they had thought to ask her. “I think Tanrin is right. I need more training before another situation like with the bandits.”
“Okay, we will have to make that a priority after Tanrin, Aldwin, and myself get back.” Thorben said.
“I think there has been a misunderstanding. My questing days are done. I am too high level to waste my time with a low level quest. I will stay here and reacquaint myself with Alfred’s ale.” Aldwin said in a voice the brooked no argument.
Alfred turned to Tanrin. “Would you be willing to barter some of those caife beans in exchange for training Miss Mia? Aldwin is going to have some free time, and I know how much he enjoys caife. Seems like there is a trade there to be made.” He pointedly looked at Aldwin’s aghast look.
“Absolutely, Alfred, I trust you to manage those beans well. Dole them out as needed.”
“Fine, I’ll train the girl. Martial prowess only.” Irritation dripped from Aldwin’s words. “Damned stubborn innkeepers. Don’t even understand their own business model. Nobody likes an overly pushy entrepreneur.”
“Well, Tanrin, it seems like it’s just you and me. When do we go discipline an unruly duke?” Thorben said.
“Tomorrow. We need to leave soon because of that quest timer you have. For tonight, I am going to eat and drink by this fire, then sleep on a nice soft cot. We can head out after we eat a hearty meal in the morning. Also, you are going to talk to Jerry about magic.” Tanrin handed Thorben a crystal hanging from a silver chain, then stretched out in a chair by the hearth and closed his eyes.
“Sounds good. See you for dinner.” Thorben said.
The next few hours passed in the blink of an eye. After Thorben acclimatized to Jerry’s mannerisms, he realized the man was a well-spring of knowledge. They’d discussed several magical theories. Apparently, magic was a fickle thing and functioned a bit differently for every class. Some, like clerics, received their gift from a god, where enchanters like himself received it from beast core’s and his own intrinsic pool of mana. Most scholars agree that the source of magic is the same for everyone, but each class’s method of access differed slightly.
Similarly, to access, the method of utilization varied from class to class. Jerry could trickle it through a stylus to imbue objects with magical effects. Wizards were scholars who, through study, had gained access to channeling limited magic through a wand by utilization of spoken words. Magicians are very similar to wizards, but magic is more instinctual and flexible, being able to use hand gestures. They rely on rituals and arcane components.
After reviewing near every detail available on his HUD with Jerry, seemingly on an endless loop, the gnome had finally stopped asking questions. He’d grown silent and entered an introspective state as Thorben sat patiently. Eventually, Thorben had made his way over to the bar and asked for an ale. He glanced around and saw that everyone else had gone to sleep for the night. “Sorry Alfred, I hope you aren’t staying awake on our account.”
“Na, I’m a bit of a night owl. Never know when a weary traveler will make their way to my doorstep. I’ve found its more often late in the night, then early in the morning.” Alfred informed him as he set a tankard in front of him. “Any luck deciphering your mystical conundrum?”
“Working on it. I’m just grateful that I have an active meditation technique to help me control it, or at least preventing it from controlling me.” Thorben admitted to the man. There was something about innkeepers. They made you want to unload burdens. “Now, if I could figure out how to harness it, I could gain a powerful tool.”
Alfred looked over Thorben’s shoulder and saw the gnome raise his hand to say something, only to freeze and put it down. This happened a few more times, when at last they both heard the gnome say, “I’ve got, got, got a theory!”
“You better head over before he gets distracted and forgets,” Alfred quipped with a wink, handing him a tankard, tilting his head to Jerry.
Thorben made his way back to the gnome and sat down, handing Jerry an ale while sipping his own. “So, what’s your theory?” Thorben eagerly asked.
Jerry spent the next hour explaining his working theory. Thorben was able to keep him focused and piece it together. Essentially, he discovered that the secret was in the details of his HUD descriptions. Jerry postulated that his source of magic was primarily an inner pool of mana, the same as anyone else, but his flexibility of use was immense based on his class description that he “wielded mana.” Based on Thorben’s Katana’s Arcane Focus evolution, Jerry deduced he would need to use his sword similar to how a wizard used a wand, but the biggest clue came from the fact that his sword was a conduit for runic magic.
Thorben learned that runic magic was a type of delivery system for magical spells. Practitioners often drew them, similar to how an enchanter engraved objects with their stylus, but they could also just think them. Thinking spells, while immensely quicker than words or physical motions, came at the expense of strength. Thorben’s excitement dampened a bit at hearing Jerry use the word weaker.
“Wait, aren’t runes pictures?” Thorben asked. “I’ve never seen pictures when I cast spells, but I have spoken words.”
“No, no, no, that too simplistic a definition. A picture is just a physical representation of an idea, as are words. They are both runes. I believe you were reading the words that your mind was picturing without using a conduit, and this resulted in the soul damage.” The gnome said. “If you picture the words and channel them through your sword, then it will utilize your mana pool properly, thus not causing soul damage.”
“How much weaker than a typical mage will I be?” Thorben asked.
Jerry’s excitement had progressively built throughout the conversation, and his tone of voice was at the peak of shrillness. “Perk, perk, perk up! I’m just getting to the best, best, best part! Due to your classes roots, roots, roots in the sorcerer class, I hypothesis that you have, have, have magic of Draconic origin!”
Thorben stared at him blankly. “Okay?”
“Draconic magic is, is, is extremely powerful!”
Thorben drained his ale and leaned back. “So I can cast a wider variety of faster and more powerful spells than other mages?” He asked with a smile growing on his face.
“Yes, yes, yes, my young wraith. Exactly,” Jerry finished contentedly. His face turned serious. “You must remember that your level 1 status limits your mana pool. Over extend yourself and you will lapse into a state of unconsciousness.”