~Thorben~
It was a ten-day journey straight north to Duke McGuire’s castle. Thorben was eager to train in spell casting. As they rode, Tanrin and he discussed the various spells that he had used, looking for patterns. The obvious observation was that they all included the word Tintreach and had all been lightning based. So he started with that.
He could hear his mother’s voice. “Necessity is the greatest motivator for results.” So, much to Tanrin’s dismay, they had forgone bringing travel rations. Thorben figured he would hunt every day using his lightning arrow until he could do it without causing soul damage. He was pretty sure that he caught Tanrin sneaking some hard cheese and Thurti jerky in his saddlebag, but didn’t call him out for his lack of trust.
He’d only succeeded so far in giving himself headaches that always accompanied the Minor Soul Damage debuff. Though he wouldn’t give up. It was the morning of the third day of travel. As they were packing up camp, he had seen a hare in the brush. He crept away from camp in the hare’s direction. Luckily, the wind wouldn’t give away his scent. He crept forward slowly until he felt comfortable with the distance from his target. He summoned his sword and pointed it at the hare. As he called forth his rage, he envisioned the words ‘tintreach saighead.’ This time, instead of trying to push the words themselves through his sword, he mentally compressed them into an arrow composed of lightning and willed them through his sword. A lightning arrow flashed through the air.
***
Achievement:
Spell Book Unlocked
Experience Gained
Achievement:
Congratulations Spell Elemental Component Learned!
Experience Gained
Achievement:
Congratulations Spell Form Discovered!
Experience Gained
Level Up! You have reached Level 2
***
Thorben couldn’t believe it! He’d done it! He rushed to pull up his status screen, he ‘fist pumped’ into the air. No debuff and a level up! He immediately rushed over to the area he had fired the bolt into. On the ground was breakfast. He field dressed it, dismissed his sword, and brought the carcass back to camp. “Behold brother! This morning we eat!” He announced triumphantly, looking at Tanrin.
Tanrin turned towards Thorben, his cheeks suspiciously puffy looking. “Congratulations,” he said as a piece of jerky fell out of his mouth. He looked down and covered it with his foot before a mischievous smile grew on his face. “Bet you were getting hungry.”
Thorben tossed the hare to his brother. “Since you are younger and have more energy than me, cook us up a feast. I need to check out my HUD.” Tanrin said, as he began coaxing the campfire’s embers back to life. The only phrase Thorben caught was “ten months.” He grinned as he opened his spell book screen.
***
-Spell Book: [New]
- Spell Element
Tintreach: lightning (Basic)
- Spell Form
Saighead: arrow (Basic)
***
From what he saw, he was astounded. If he could learn more elements and forms, the number of spells he could create would increase exponentially. Was there a way to combine multiple elements? Was there a limit to his range? Could he simply rain spells down on his enemies from a safe distance?
Before his excitement led him to indulge in too many hero fantasies, he took a quick look at his mana bar. He noticed it was emptier than it had been, down by about a fourth. So one lightning arrow diminished my mana pool by a quarter. Is this going to be the case for every lightning arrow? Every lightning spell? Every spell? This would significantly impact the combat uses. Time for another test!
He again summoned his sword. As he pointed it at a large rock in the near distance. He thought about the role his rage had played. It had acted almost as a tunnel to his mana pool. He called forth his rage, but this time limited it to a mere trickle, and again envisioned the words “tintreach saighead.” He forced his rage to shrink the size of the tunnel, compressed the words, and willed them through his sword. A lightning arrow flashed through the air, sped forward, and dissipated in the air before reaching its target. He frowned as he checked his mana pool, down more, but it had cost about half of what it had before. A realization dawned on him. The more mana he pumped into the spell, the more the range increased. I wonder if it impacts power. No easy way to test that. I doubt Tanrin would volunteer, he thought with a laugh.
Just before he closed his HUD, he remembered that he had leveled up, and quickly checked his status screen.
***
-Status:
Experience: (0/250)
Karmic Standing: Neutral
+Effects
***
He had been at level 1 prior, and had four achievements since his class selection. Unfortunately, the class selection had negated all his previous experience earns. It appeared each achievement after had netted him 25 experience. Pleased with his progress, he closed his HUD, and finished helping Tanrin prepare the hare.
The next few days were similar. He discovered he could control both the range and power of his spells by controlling his rage, and willing mana to flow faster or slower. While he was ecstatic to make the discovery, he’d vaporized that evening’s meal. As he practiced, he noticed that the drain on his mana was lessening, and his cast time improved. He could only fire off a handful of bolts before running dangerously low on mana. His gut convinced him that those incremental gains would be important.
A practical joke by Tanrin had also helped him to discover that, while his sword acted as a conduit, it didn’t affect the aim. He’d been practicing varying the intensity of his lightning arrow when Tanrin had snuck up and clapped in his ear, causing him to flinch. By all rights, he should have been nowhere near on target, but the bolt went right where he had been aiming. After he calmed down, he mentioned his observation to his brother, who was very proud that he had finally snuck up on his Elven heritage brother.
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Tanrin was still chuckling, but his eyes shined with seriousness. “Sounds like your intent or desire plays an important part in what your spell does,” His brother then spent the rest of the evening pointing out how he was a great magical tutor, and emphasizing just how much he helped.
The next day, he’d started testing the theory by pointing his sword in a different direction. After he still successfully hit his target, he’d starting holding it with the tip touching the ground. Every bolt he cast traveled straight to where he’d intended to hit. By the time they’d reached the river they had to ford, he had figured out that his intent aimed the spell, and that it limited lightning arrows to traveling in a straight line.
They solidified their plan as they dried off by the fire that night. “I should do all the talking,” Tanrin said. “You should keep your hood drawn and do the whole mysterious stranger routine. The bandit that survived never saw my face, and while you have changed a lot, you cut most of the bastard’s fingers off. If I was a betting man, I’d wager he would recognize you.”
“If you were a betting man?” Thorben asked in mocking confusion. Tanrin had ignored this comment and Thorben let it go, returning to the conversation at hand. “I agree, my debuff won’t help our situation, but if I can stay hidden, it shouldn’t hurt either.” Thorben said.
“Also, can you sheath your sword? We can’t run around a duke’s castle with a bared blade so that you can be ready to cast at a moment’s notice. Ya know?” Tanrin inquired.
“I guess I never actually tried summoning a sheath. I got distracted by the fact that I could make it disappear and hadn’t needed to get around to it. While it doesn’t take long to summon, you are right. It would be better if I could sheathe it and simply rest my hand on the hilt.” Thorben tried everything that he could think of but was unable to summon a sheathe of any kind. They determined he would just have to keep it dismissed while meeting with other people. The intimidation factor would have been nice, but they would make do without.
As they neared the area that Jerry’s map had led them to, they noticed a few farmhouses spread out along the landscape. A few of them were nothing more than charred husks, and others were decrepit and empty. Fallow fields with only weeds surviving in the dry and cracked soil filled the horizon. Only a few showed signs of life: small food plots abnormally close to the house, the sound of a cow escaping a closed up barn, a light flickering off as they drew close. These farmers were facing hard times, fear causing them to withdraw into their homes.
They continued on and reached a small village. As they passed through, eyes peeked out from windows only to dart back in. By this point, they could see the faint outline of the keep off in the distance. They wouldn’t make it my nightfall. “Shall we try to find lodging here?” Thorben asked his brother.
Tanrin glanced around. “Things are worse than we feared. I doubt we will find anything, but we may gain some intel. Let’s try for a few minutes, but be ready to flee.”
Thorben agreed, and they rode the streets for a few minutes until they saw a sign for the village inn. They dismounted, tied their reins to the hitching post, and knocked on the door. There was a fire lit, as smoke was coming from the chimney, but no one answered. They knocked again, a bit louder, “we are weary travelers looking for accommodations, food, and maybe a drink. We mean you no harm.” Again, they waited, but still no response.
Just as Tanrin was going to knock again, Thorben grabbed his arm and said softly, “let’s go, brother.” Tanrin shook his head sadly. Thorben summoned a little silver and laid them at the base of the door. “If you can hear me,” he whispered, “I’ve left a few silver by your door. It seems you might need it. Goodbye.” As he turned to mount his horse, a tired voice from behind the door said, “Thank you, stranger. There are no rooms or supplies in town. The duke’s men leave us with just enough for most of us to scrape by.”
Tanrin must have heard the word ‘most’ and instead of mounting his horse, he opened his saddlebag. He dug out his rations and put the remainder of his cheese and jerky next to the coin.
“My brother has left what food we can spare next to the coin.” Thorben said.
Thorben heard soft sobbing. “This was a friendly town once, full of life, and brimming with hope. A stranger never would have been turned away,” the voice sobbed. It sounded like an older lady, but Thorben couldn’t be sure. “I’m sorry, young man. We really were a good town once.”
“Stay strong, I believe you. When I am finished with the duke, you will be a good town again. I promise you.” He said with such conviction that he heard an intake of hopeful breath from behind the door. “You will be again,” Thorben repeated softly to himself.
***
Quest Updated:
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.)
Optional: Set the village of Farfield on a path to return to its former glory.
***
The brothers mounted and rode out of town in silence, both wrapped up in contemplating what this town’s predicament meant. Both of them planning and preparing to end whatever terror was causing it. They rode into the darkening sky for as long as they could, only stopping when it turned into a danger for their mounts. They silently made camp and fell into their well oiled routine of alternating watches. The duke was going to answer for this, and anyone else that had a part would pay. Thorben silently thanked Aldwin for helping him gain an active meditation technique, he used it each of his watches throughout the night. He had no doubt that he would have over-cast again, as his rage was boiling beneath his skin.
Morning came with both of them still shaken at the surrounding sight. They ate in a solemn silence that was only broken to review their plan. “A blood price is not off the table,” Thorben said. His voice was barely audible. “At the first hint of evil, we take them. We take them all.”
Tanrin glanced over and nodded his agreement. “Down to the last man if need be. To do that, we will need to be smart. Target selection will mean we have to prioritize stealth.”
“Let’s go.” Thorben said, and with that, they rode towards the empty village that surrounded the keep. Spying an out of the way barn closer to the keep walls, they got their horses settled with food and water. After they settled their horses, their attention turned to disguising themselves and hiding their weapons. Thorben needed little more than to draw his cloak hood, and with a thought, dismissed his Katana. Tanrin’s getup was a bit more involved. However, eventually they were ready and began the trek towards the keep. Death on their heels.
After a quarter of an hour of walking, they reached the keep walls. “Halt! Who goes there!” a soldier atop the wall called out at their approach.
“Travelers seeking an audience with the duke.” Tanrin forced himself to take on a jovial mood.
“What do you want from the duke?” the soldier responded.
“We seek only to get his permission to work some land and have coin to pay any acquisition tax that may be required.” Tanrin offered. “Maybe even a gate use fee for the dutiful soldier manning his post so skillfully?” Tanrin sweetened the deal. During their planning, they had agreed that a duke wouldn’t turn away taxes, nor a soldier a bit of extra coin.
Muffled words drifted through the arrow slit, and soon they heard, “Let them in. We wouldn’t want to turn away a potential law-abiding, tax-paying citizen. Let’s just verify that the coin is good before we bother the good duke.”
Thorben and Tanrin exchanged a look. It didn’t sound like this would go smoothly. The aged portcullis squeaked in protest as it raised just enough for them to walk through. As soon as they had, it slammed down shut behind them. The brothers forced down the instinct to scan for danger and prepare weapons. They. They instead continued in character. This was the most risky party. They hadn’t known for sure if the Duke would have a double portcullis sally port entrance, but knew that if he did, then they were at the soldier’s mercy.
If they couldn’t talk their way in, the soldiers could just rain arrows down on them or have them swim in boiling tar. Thorben ensured his hood was secure, and he was far enough in the shadows to hide his face, yet not far enough to be overly suspicious. He pretended to admire the construction of the rear portcullis as a pretense for his actions, giving the impression that he was oblivious to their dangerous situation. Despite this being a facade, he had to admit that the keep’s defensive capabilities were impressive. Attackers wouldn’t get in without overwhelming force, advanced siege weapons, and a lot of luck.
“Ahh, nice to be out of the sun for a moment.” Tanrin said, trudging along the barrier. This was where Tanrin had figured he would to have to bluff a bit. Fortunately for them, the guards were confident in their superior numbers, and to the brothers’ surprise, opened the second entrance for them to proceed into the keep’s outer courtyard. They shielded their eyes as they stepped back into the sunlight. Their eyes blinked rapidly to get their bearings, and what they saw made Thorben’s blood run cold.
In life, there are times when one seemingly insignificant decision haunts a person for the rest of their life. A decision so minute, made with such surety, that you never quite grasp how it went wrong. These men had made such a mistake. The moment they had admitted the Deepirons, they had simultaneously surrendered their existence into the hands of justice. They were dead and simply hadn’t acknowledged it yet.