Weylan and Trulda marched at a brisk pace back to the village. It took a while for Weylan to notice something: "You're pretty damn fit for an alewife. Apart from my father and Dronwil the hunter, everyone else was panting to keep up with me and my father."

Trulda laughed: "I grew up with a wandering group of showmen. I've only been at the inn for a year. Since I arrived here in the village."

"You never told me that."

"You've never asked. In fact, we've barely had a conversation. You usually come up to me at the bar, try to say something, blush and then order a beer."

"That only happened once!"

Trulda just looked at him with a silent grin as he walked away, until he gave in: "All right, maybe that's happened to me two or three times."

"Per week."

Now that was a massive exaggeration, as he hadn't made it to the inn every week, but he just shrugged helplessly. Trulda came closer as he walked and poked him in the side:

"What did you really want to ask? Come on. Talk."

"I wanted to invite you out with me."

"I didn't have much to do in my free time. Why didn't you ask?"

"I didn't know where to go. The others invite their girlfriends to the inn for a beer or a lemonade. We only have one inn. Where you work."

"How about an invitation to go for a walk?"

"That..." he fell silent and Trulda let the subject rest.

The two of them wandered on in silence for a while, then she couldn't hold back her curiosity: "Did you actually get XP for the quest? I know it's not the right time, but..."

"That's all right. Let me see, I haven't been able to read the latest news yet."

Quest: Herd the flock failed. All quest takers have died.

Quest: Blood for blood successful *ERROR* Questgiver and quest taker identical. Reward denied.

Skill increased: Crossbow (Apprentice IV)

New character class unlocked through actions: Assassin.

Warning: Character class requires instruction by a master to increase above level 1.

"So?"

"No experience points. The World Voice will not accept a Questgiver as a participant in their own quest."

"Can you still..."

"I can still create quests. My gut tells me that I need a reason to call out a quest, but then I can set the details quite freely. Conditions for victory and defeat and the amount of the reward. But only up to a limit, depending on the difficulty of the quest. I haven't figured out the exact mechanism yet."

Halfway to the village, he had collected himself enough to call up his status screen. To his surprise, he found completely new menu fields that he had never seen before. As soon as he focused on them, a message appeared:

Congratulations! By actively participating in quests and gaining experience points, you have activated the progression system ahead of schedule.

Character class is available for selection. Plus 10 skill points for free distribution.

Available character classes:

Basic classes (always available): Brawler, Skirmisher, Thief, Craftsman (simple trades), Farmer

Classes unlocked through actions: Shepherd, Hunter, Assassin

As he walked, he went through the descriptions of the classes he was interested in. The brawler was given combat skills with simple, mostly improvised weapons and basic crafting skills. The skirmisher was for primitive military units. Thieves could wield daggers, climb, sneak and were the only basic class that could pick pockets, pick locks and disarm traps.

The hunter acquired skills in wilderness survival, hunting and stalking. He could set up simple game traps, gut and cook animals.

He probably hadn't been out in the wilderness alone long enough to unlock the more versatile and combat-stronger Ranger class.

The Assassin... Was interesting. The class became accessible through certain actions before acquiring the first class. After that, it could only be increased via a master. If he didn't find one, he had the option of switching to Thief for the next levels. According to the text, the Assassin class was considered rare and belonging to it was forbidden in most countries. Thief wasn't exactly legal or honorable either, but he wouldn't be hanged for that alone in most cities. Thieves were required in any adventuring party that wanted to conquer a dungeon. None of the other common character classes could find and overcome traps as well.

If he wanted to survive, he needed exactly this combination of fighting and thieving skills. The legends also always said that you got more and better skills for rare classes than for the basic classes.

If he wanted to learn other higher classes, he would need a master. Even after selling the warrior's equipment, he didn't have nearly enough gold for that. Knights or even mages were therefore not an option. He didn't know how to become a priest. However, he assumed that he would also need a teacher for that.

In principle, there were two options. To go into hiding as a hunter in the forest, or as an assassin in the city. He hesitated at the last moment. What if he was discovered as an assassin and arrested? Wouldn't being a thief be the safer choice? On the other hand, he would then lose the unique opportunity of a rare and more powerful class. If OrcSlayer was hunting him, pickpocketing wouldn't help him. Resolutely, he made his choice.

Chosen character class: Assassin Level 1

Skill learned: Stealth (Apprentice I)

Skill learned: Climbing (Apprentice I)

Skill learned: Picking locks (Layman I)

Skill acquired: Poison lore (Layman I)

Skill learned: Streetwise (Apprentice I)

Skill learned: Sneak attack (Apprentice I)

Skill increased: Knives and daggers (Apprentice III)

Skill increased: Crossbow (Apprentice V)

He almost tripped over his feet as he looked in amazement at the multitude of skills. Six at apprentice level alone? Poison crafting?

Trulda snapped him out of his concentration: "Hello? I asked you a question!"

"I'm sorry. I was just completely lost in thought. What was the question?"

"I wanted to know if you had any idea where we could sell the warrior's equipment. It obviously belonged to an adventurer, the grocer's store will hardly buy it from us."

Weylan was about to reply that he had no idea, when the image of the tinker who had given him change for a repair years ago appeared before his eyes. He had seen a surprising amount of flashing equipment in his covered wagon. A few gold coins had also shone through at the bottom of his pouch. Something a tinker could never acquire with his normal work.

"We could ask Detter, the tinker. I have a hunch he's not quite what he seems. Could be a fence."

Streetwise increased to Apprentice II

So that's how knowledge talents worked. Weylan grinned to himself. Knowledge that just appeared. It felt great. While the village was already coming into view, he concentrated on the menu of increases, which was completely new to him. Each skill had ten levels and rose to the next level with the tenth level. From layman to apprentice. From apprentice to journeyman, master, grandmaster and legend. Next to the display for the unused skill points, he discovered a warning. These would expire after a week. He didn't like that at all. After all, it would have been much more effective to increase the talents by practicing and then use the skill points when he could no longer find sufficiently challenging applications. It would be best to use the short time to practise as much as possible and then use the points for increases shortly beforehand. As he thought about it, ten points seemed like a lot. Hadn't the heroes in the adventures received one or two points per level at most? Getting involved in adventures before your 16th birthday was probably worth it. Maybe it was a bonus for starting so early. Or was there a bonus for rare character classes? Although that would be almost unfair to normal classes in addition to the many skills. On the other hand, he didn't see a lot of useful things he could do with skill points at the moment. Increases were very easy at the lower levels. A day of hard work, preferably under the guidance of a more experienced teacher, was usually enough. In dangerous situations, it was even quicker. However, it took more to move up to the next level. His skill in slingshots had already stagnated at apprentice X for a year.

The two of them took a detour to reach Detter's hut as unseen as possible. Weylan whispered to Trulda: "I've only just realized that. The hut is extremely easy to reach without being seen. There is a path here that is covered on all sides by trees, bushes and houses leading to the village. Hardly anyone comes into the village from this direction. The fields are on the other side and the hunters usually cross to the other side, where there are fewer brambles in the way. Can't be a coincidence."

Trulda just nodded, while the world voice agreed with him even more clearly.

Streetwise increased to Apprentice III

For amateurs, it was therefore sufficient to successfully apply the talent in order to improve. Regardless of whether he drew a correct conclusion himself or the talent solved a problem on its own.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Shortly afterwards, he knocked on Detter's door. The tinker opened it and laughed happily when he saw him and Trulda: "Still a few customers! With all the commotion in the village, no one has had any use for me or my wares today. What can I do for you. No, don't say anything. There are two of you, so it must be something big. Would you like to buy a new kettle for the inn? I've got a cast-iron kettle here that's made for an inn. It's dirt cheap!"

Weylan interrupted him: "Can we come in first?"

"Of course! Come in to the parlor."

With a raised eyebrow, he now noticed the bundle on Weylan's shoulder: "What have we got there... chain mail? Oh dear. I'll have to pass. You need an armorer, not a tinker." He seemed genuinely contrite to admit it.

Weylan shook his head and spread the bundle out on the floor: "One of the adventurers killed my father."

Detter's gaze slid back and forth between Weylan and the pile: "Since you're carrying his equipment around with you, I'm assuming you reacted a little indignantly to that."

A little late, he added: "My condolences, by the way. We'll all miss old Ryoden." He hesitated, while the two of them just looked at him expectantly: "What exactly are you doing with me now?"

"The adventurer will show up here again tomorrow. Like those damned revenants always do. By then, we'll both have disappeared. We'll run off to Hartwalden and go into hiding there. But to build a new life there, we'll need start-up capital."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me."

"There are no other fences in the village."

"Fence?!?" Detter turned around and looked carefully out of various windows to make sure no one was around before continuing, "Don't say that. If anyone hears you, I could lose my reputation as an honest trader and craftsman."

"We don't have time for these games. How much, for the whole lot of them?"

Detter started to make another objection, but then fell silent. He looked Weylan straight in the eye. Something seemed to flash in his pupils and Weylan had a strange feeling. Like cobwebs gliding across his face. Or rather through his head. Detter's posture changed abruptly. The friendly, confused expression on his face became serious and his voice took on a threatening undertone: "I don't have to explain to you what will happen if you tell anyone about me."

Weylan nodded seriously.

"Good, we understand each other." He got down on his knees and stroked the chain mail with his hands. He picked it up a little and looked at it more closely: "No riveted chain links. Looks great, but only works against cuts. Thrusting weapons and arrows blow the chain links apart and go right through. Expensive for a level 1 hero. It's part of the upper limit of what noobs can carry, but it's still just beginner's gear." He picked up the sword and unsheathed it. "Good blade. Not magical and not a masterpiece, but solid craftsmanship. Hardly ever used. At least never against armor or blades." He ran his finger over dark brown stains. "You really should have cleaned it better before you sheathed it."

Weylan, who had been taught to look after his equipment from the cradle, looked down guiltily: "We had other things on our minds at the time."

Detter just nodded and then moved on to the next part: "You can't take the crossbow with you if you don't want to stand out everywhere. You can't hide it and only guild-licensed warriors are allowed to own crossbows. At least it's a standard model that you can get anywhere. I'll keep these for myself. Times are getting a lot more dangerous right now, so finding them in my cart won't cause much trouble for a traveling merchant. The dagger has a coat of arms etched on the blade, I can't sell it. I'll dispose of it for you."

Weylan was quite sure that Detter would somehow turn the dagger into gold, but he just nodded. He was in no mood to haggle and knew he had no bargaining chips. He could hardly find another fence. It was more than unlikely that there was even one left in the small village. He would have to take what he could get. Even if it was just a rucksack with food and a few silver coins.

"So? How much?"

The fence rubbed his chin and looked thoughtfully at the spread-out pile. Then he began to gather goods from various chests and cupboards: "You need two rucksacks. Travel provisions for a week. Water hoses. Cutlery and wooden plates. Two blankets."

Weylan suppressed a sigh. That didn't sound like he was going to get much beyond that. If they wanted to stay at inns, it would cost two to three silver a night for both of them. Plus one more for food and drink. Probably a little more in the city. If necessary, they could spend the night in the open on the way. The main thing was that they didn't have to beg in the city until they found work. Three or four gold pieces had to jump out. Otherwise it would be tight.

The fence rummaged deep down in a chest and Weylan heard a soft click as he presumably opened a hidden compartment. Detter straightened up, turned to them and tossed Weylan a pouch: "Plus fifteen gold, mostly in silver and copper coins. I can't spare any more with the best will in the world."

Weylan weighed the heavy bag in his hand and looked at the fence in amazement.

Detter grinned broadly: "Weylan, I've known you since you could crawl and your father even longer. You need the gold and I'll be able to sell the pile for around that value in the next few weeks. With luck, I'll even make some profit. A crossbow alone would have cost me twelve gold coins. That's not even counting the brand new bolts. So you don't have to think I'm crazy. It's a good deal, even for me."

He packed everything into the backpacks in a practiced manner and pressed one of them into Trulda's arm: "Why don't you go ahead? I'd like to speak with Weylan alone for a moment." With an easy smile he gently ushered her through the door and waited until she had walked a little distance away. He closed the door and went over to the fireplace. There he took the poker and used it to lever up a piece of the floor. From the resulting alcove, he retrieved an object wrapped in oilcloth: "I need someone in Mulnirsheim to keep an eye out for me and occasionally send me a letter when things change in the not-so-legal part of the population. When the thieves' guild changes its leader or the merchants' guild starts siccing assassins on non-guild members. Things like that."

Weylan raised his hand defensively: "But we're going to Hartwalden, not Mulnirsheim. That's a completely different direction."

"Oh no. There are only two cities that come into question in terms of size and distance. You're not stupid enough to name the right city as your destination. If you want to lie to me, you'll have to get up earlier. If your path leads you to Mulnirsheim, it won't do you any harm to keep your eyes open for me."

The shepherd's son looked curiously at the object in Detter's hand. He grinned: "Now I'm sure you're interested in what that is."

He waited for a nod, then pulled the oilcloth apart. A dagger became visible. Or rather, the black outline of a dagger. "A dagger made of shadow metal. I've been trying to sell it for twelve years, but it's hard to find a buyer for something this special."

Weylan carefully reached for the dagger and took it in his hand. It was heavy in his hand, but was barely visible as soon as he moved. It blurred in the slightest shadow. "Is it magic?"

"Yes, that's also the problem. It can only be wielded by a single character class and only has advantages if you use it for sneak attacks. In other words, a strike that the victim doesn't see coming or on someone who can't defend themselves or dodge. It pierces through most non-magical armor like a bed sheet. When it hits, it always does the maximum possible damage."

"A maximum damage enchantment? Only the most legendary weapons have that!"

"Only works on a sneak attack. You only have this once in most fights. If you manage to surprise someone. Maximum damage on a dagger is also not as impressive as on one of the legendary two-handed blades. What makes the weapon so hard to sell is that it can only be wielded by assassins. A restrictive spell prevents anyone else from even touching the blade."

Weylan quickly placed the dagger on the table and pulled his hand back. That had been a short career as an assassin. Not a day and he had been caught. He hadn't even had time to find out whether he would be beheaded or hanged. After all, it was one of the higher classes of criminals, so he should have a right to be decapitated properly instead of ending up on the nearest tree like a common highwayman. It was a little late when he came up with the idea of simply denying it and he came across as unconvincing: "I'm not a..."

"You are an assassin. There's no point in denying it. I have a very high analysis skill and was able to read your character class earlier."

The young assassin looked at him with concern. Detter waved him off reassuringly: "I don't condemn you for choosing a forbidden class. I wouldn't have dared to do that myself, but I understand what tempted you. Take the dagger. I haven't found any other buyers for it yet, and it's dangerous to actively search for one. An assassin would not be pleased if I recognized him. If I can manage that at all."

"How can I prevent every city guard from seeing through me immediately and arresting me? If I had known how easy it would be..."

"Don't panic. Do you have any skill points left?"

"A whole ten. I wanted to practise first before I gave out points for the increase."

"Good thinking. You saw that they expire after a week?" Weylan just nodded, so the fence continued: "Search through the menus until you find the skill: Mind Block. Status Analysis is a skill that counts as active mind reading. Mind Block prevents anyone with a lower skill level from reading your mind. At the same skill level, it is a bit of a coincidence whether it works and how well. It also depends on your willpower. You don't stand a chance against someone with a higher skill level. Many of the more esoteric skills require your thoughts to be read, at least superficially, before they can have an effect on you. The skill is therefore not quite as limited as it looks at first glance. It also works against spells that cause fear or other emotions."

"How many people have status analysis? Every city guard? Merchants?"

"The captain of the city guard for sure. The guardsmen themselves hardly. Only a few character classes can learn it without a master and a lot of time. Judges or thieves, for example. Officers of the city guard usually receive special instruction in the larger cities. With little practice, you can tell when you are being read. This is a rather rude invasion of privacy. Everyone will think twice about using it. Very few have it at a higher level than layman. As long as no one is trying to block you, it's not an effort and doesn't increase your skill. You should be wary of judges and officers of the royal guard. They usually have it to at least journeyman level, a judge sometimes even to master level. Take mind block and upgrade to apprentice straight away. You should be able to cope with most of what you'll face in Mulnirsheim."

"I had actually hoped to activate ten skills in one go."

"You can only choose basic skills just like that. You can always get them by practicing. Trust me. Saving here now will pay off."

Weylan called up the appropriate menu with a now practiced mind and, after a longing look at the numerous craft talents and other useful skills, selected Mind Block.

Skill learned. Mind Block (Apprentice I)

Then he took it straight to the next level with the remaining nine points. Or at least tried to.

Skill increased. Mind Block (Apprentice X)

"That's strange. I have the skill at ten, but it doesn't jump to the next skill level."

Detter raised an eyebrow: "Now don't tell me that you slept on the subject of all things in village lessons."

"I shouldn't actually be able to use the skill system at all for another year. I would have had it explained to me again then."

He wiped the status screen to the side and blinked at the crossbow that Detter had calmly cocked while he had been distracted. The fence put in a bolt: "That could prove to be a fatal mistake now."

"Are you serious?"

"Well..." Detter smiled, but kept aiming at Weylan's chest. "If you can't hide your class, they'll catch you as soon as you enter the city. If you're caught, they'll interrogate you. Then soon the guards will be after me too. You see, I have a vested interest in your success."

Weylan looked at the bolt, which was aimed right at his heart. Detter stood too close to miss and too far away to attack him before he could fire.

"You're starting to scare me."

"Good, I'm going to count to three now. Then I'll try to read your character class. If I can do it, I'll shoot you. If not, you can go."

"Wait! You can't do that!" He continued to stare frozen at the tip of the bolt. Was there something viscous stuck to it? Had Detter also poisoned the bolt?

"One."

"Trulda will notice if I don't come out. She..." He fell silent as Detter wordlessly placed a second bolt on the table.

"Two."

"That... I..." Weylan fell silent, trying hard to think shepherd-like thoughts. Sheep. Meadows. Herding dogs...

"Three."

Detter stared fixedly into his eyes. Weylan stared back. Nothing happened for an eternally long heartbeat.

Skill increased. Mind Block (Journeyman I)

One (1) skill feat available for selection:

Wolf in sheep's clothing

+2 bonus to feign a non-fighter class.

Sheep in wolf's clothing

+2 bonus to feign a fighter class.

Protected sleep

Thought blockade remains active even during sleep and unconsciousness.

Incognito

+ 5 bonus for faking a certain class. This can never be changed again.

Detter grinned and put his crossbow to one side. "There you go. You did it, shepherd."

"You wouldn't really have killed me if that hadn't worked, would you?"

The fence brushed the idea aside with a snort of laughter. "No, of course not. But if you don't feel threatened, it won't work. You have to master a journeyman's piece to advance to the next level. It's a challenge. With crafting skills, you can actually make a physical workpiece. With the more esoteric skills, it's a bit more difficult. In any case, you are now immune to everything the usual city guards can come up with. You now also have a menu where you can set which character class should be displayed. Think carefully about what you enter there."

"Well, shepherd, of course." Weylan grinned for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"That's right. No one should doubt that. What benefits do you have to choose from?"

Weylan called up the message again and read out the text. Detter whistled through his teeth, impressed: "Four to choose from? I've always had a maximum of two. Maybe it's because the world voice is generous, because you've invested all your enhancement points in it. Most people start with ten different skills."

"Well, thank you. I thought that would be the most effective. It takes you straight to apprentice level. When you activate a skill, you start at Layman I."

"Yes, but at Layman tier, you increase your skill practically every time you use it. Even outside of dangerous situations, you can easily increase a point every day, even more with a teacher. You will then be given advantages to choose from that match what you have done most often with the skill. That's why you shouldn't train something completely different. Remember that. Always use important skills exactly the way you want to use them later."

"Which advantage would you take?"

"Incognito looks perfect at first glance, but it's a trap. Shepherd won't always be a suitable disguise. Not being able to change your class would cripple the skill."

Weylan stared at himself for a while. Then he nodded slightly: "Otherwise, if you can read my status as soon as I fall asleep, then sheltered sleep is the only right choice."

"Correct. That's what I took back then." Detter opened a chest, took something out and pressed a dagger sheath into Weylan's hand: "Put the shadow dagger in here."

Weylan sheathed the blade and the metal suddenly lost its shadow coating. Without it, it looked like a normal dagger hilt made of cheap iron. He pulled the dagger out a little and it immediately plunged into the deepest blackness.

"I don't even know how to thank you..."

"Forget it."

"The blade alone..."

"I'm serious. Forget about it. Forget you ever spoke to me. Unless something happens in Mulnirsheim that might interest me. I don't expect you to write soon or regularly. But if you get settled in there and find out that the domains of the criminal guilds are changing or a gang war breaks out, I want to know about it."

Weylan nodded and then quickly said goodbye.

A little further along the path, he joined Trulda. She looked at him questioningly: "So, what else did you have to talk about?"

"He had a few tips on how to deal with such a beautiful woman."

She gave him a mischievous look from the side: "Any good tips?"

"I'll see when I test them."

"Something to look forward to."