Jack abruptly woke up with an agonized gasp, feeling as if his limbs were on fire. Screaming with the feel of earth and stone and all things solid and resilient tearing through his body, before laughing with a spray of coughed up blood, realizing that he was, in fact, perfectly fine.
All he was sensing was his own very solid bones after sleeping on damp stone through the night, as he clenched his fists tight with bittersweet knowledge, weeping for friends he knew he would never see again, as he slowly made his way out of a damp, musty, and very small cave.
Friends he now feared were now no more real than a dream.
At least for him.
Congratulations! You have achieved Rank 1 Earth Affinity! Earth affinity has successfully conjoined with Blood Magic affinity! Bringing life to the inanimate, summoning Elementals, is now within your grasp! Crimson Earth Adept class is now open to you!
He chuckled softly, rubbing his stinging cheeks as memory of Sin's sardonic wit and Mitch's jock-like bluster, hiding a heart as big and noble as their paladin's own, blazed poignantly in the pages of his memory, along with Sharon's sharp intellect and Lauren's sensual smile and motherly care. All if it transformed into a sudden sharp ache in his heart as, for a single heartbeat, he looked around with desperate, wild eyes, for the path back to the village he had for the space of a single dream and countless weeks called his own.
He couldn't help it, falling to the ground in unexpected sobs, aching for a magical dream of wonder he had let slip forever from his grasp. And the orbs of Blood and Earth already linking with Water and Fire served as the scantest consolation when so much beauty and wonder had been at his fingertips.
And so cheaply thrown away.
Weary steps carried him down a winding path he had once shared with his friends before finding himself in the ancient wreck of a town that had held such festivities and wonder, just hours ago.
Years ago.
A world away.
He shook his head, closing his eyes as the predawn light blossomed to a brilliant morning sky, flush with crimson and fiery gold laced billowing clouds high above, and Jack couldn't help but smile, taking solace in the beauty around him, as sweetest memories turned to the consistency of dream, the aches of his heart fading to a distant thing.
Filling him with alarm, and relief, as he summoned the journal in his soul pouch, hurried notes bringing fresh tears to his eyes, yet leaving him with a sense of completeness as well, knowing he would never, ever forget his friends, even if, right now, the adventures he had shared with them felt more like scenes recalled from his favorite adventure novels. Or perhaps the fading flickers of a wonderful dream that he was only now truly waking from.
He closed his eyes and gazed at the heavens. "Be safe and happy, wherever you are. Know that I will always have your back."
And when he opened his eyes once more, feeling curiously light and free of lingering regrets, he felt ready to start his life anew, to embrace whatever fresh adventures were out there waiting for him.
Before realizing it was already too late.
You have been critically struck by backstab!
Jack cried out when blazing pain tore through him, though it came out an agonized groan, when rough hands out of nowhere roughly slammed him to the ground.
"I caught a trespasser, Lord Usling! I'll bet he has the answers were looking for!"
Jack's suddenly blurry vision caught sight of an ugly pockmarked face smirking down into his own as his arms were jerked back and he was manhandled to his feet, bleary eyes catching sight of cold grey eyes from hard, chiseled, hairless features glaring down at him as if he were less than dirt.
The cold eyed man dressed in black armaments gave a contemptuous shake of his head. "Did you have to stab him, fool? He's no good to me dead."
"My sincerest apologies, honored magistrate," the man deferentially uttered as Jack groaned. "But the fool is armed, you can see by the sword at his hip, and I thought it best to take him unawares-like."
The magistrate sneered, giving a dismissive shake of his head. "Very well, fool. But next time use your truncheon."
"Yes, my lord!"
Those cold grey eyes locked with Jack's own as wormy lips crawled into a smile. "How I do delight in catching tresspassers. Do you know why this is, Tresspasser?"
A still stunned Jack did his best to put his words in order, tongue nearly tripping over itself in a desperate bid to placate the source of his sudden peril. "I'm sorry, Lord Magistrate? I wasn't aware that I was—"
Jack stumbled back to the ground with a groan when a truncheon slammed into the back of his head. "No backtalking the master!" the sleekly built rogue snarled.
But a dizzy, nauseous Jack could only groan. Desperately struggling to enact that which he should have the instant he had been struck.
And what an idiot he was to allow emotions to leave him so vulnerable, all too well aware that unlike in storybook regio, in the outer world, bitter hardship and cruelest irony were everywhere, just as it had been on Earth, and the world cared nothing for your loves, losses, and triumphs. A single mistake would see a hero dead, and uncaring luck would just as easily grant a murderer a kingdom's boon. At that moment he believed that bitter insight as profoundly as he did life itself.
Because here, preparation and ruthless resolve were everything. Resolve just like that which he saw in the coldly smiling monster's face now approaching him. And a simple lapse, like Jack's own as he groaned and rolled away, leaving a trail of blood behind him, could be the end of all one's hopes and dreams.
The cold-eyed figure casually slid off his stallion, black boots looming large in Jack's vision as he rapidly approached, before kneeling down and smiling into Jack's eyes.
"What I love most about trespassers is that my master gives me absolute free reign in dealing with them as I wish." Thin lips wormed into a cruel smile, and Jack quailed in horror as he sensed a thin silver tendril shimmer into being around the man's head. A tendril now slowly unspooling like a ribbon, or a snake, slithering toward Jack's wide-eyed countenance.
"Now, on the off chance a pathetic cast-off like you actually knows something useful... What do you know about the fate of this town or the young master to whom this property was feted? Speak! Now!"
Jack lurched back, ignoring the agony in his back, feigning shocked incomprehension as the silver serpent of a mindmage's will struck the ground where his skull had lain just moments before. "I have no idea what you're talking about! What town? All I see are ruins! And who is this mysterious heir?"
His lurching back earned him the cold feel of steel against the back of his neck. "Easy there, lad. You stay still, now. Stock still, lest you'd like me to slice open you neck," hissed the guttural voiced lackey to his rear as the interrogator stepped forward.
"The heir in question would be the firstborn son of Lord Hecklebart." The inquisitor tilted his head, lips creeping in a cold smile.
Jack felt jolt of ice-cold terror racing down his spine.
"Now that I think about it, you do have the look of an adventurer. And Lord Hecklebart has had his fill of adventurers who actually dared to claim his properties as if they were their own." The man gave a cold shake of a head. "And I'm afraid that precedent just won't do. Servants must be made to know their place. And you, worm, are not even that, I'm afraid. Though I do wonder. Why are you really here?"
The man's mocking smile turned to a furious roar, his mind lashing out with silver tendrils eager for Jack's mind.
"You are here to meet up with others of your kind. Is that not so? Perhaps the very ones who dared to cross my lord. Admit it! The truth is written clearly on your face! But I want more than a worthless confession. I want every single tidbit of knowledge you would think to hide from me. Now submit to my will, or embrace the death you so richly deserve!"
Chapter
Mind screaming with panic, Jack could think of only one thing that just might save his life.
"Alright!" he screamed. "I'll give you the gold!"
The blade against his neck stiffened, and the imposing sentinal in black flashed a pleased smile, deadly silver strands halting inches from Jack's face. "Lord Hecklebart can always use more gold, and secrets are best spilled with full cognizance. So spill all your petty little secrets, and enjoy a few more moments of blissful sanity, before madness consumes you for the rest of your short, miserable life!"
A flustered Jack had already plunged his hand in the shadows of his soul pouch that the glowering inquisitor rubbed his temples just trying to look at.
"You have treasures hidden in shadow. Release your cantrips at once!" he roared, before his eyes caught the flash of pristine gold graced with over a dozen emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, sparkling in the morning sun. His share of the golden treasure chest that didn't discorporate at all when they had claimed it and given thanks, as if a final blessing of the rift, Mitch refusing all protests and making sure each of the six priceless bejeweled slabs of gold were split and weighed evenly. Prizes to melt down with flawless jewels to claim with the help of a master jeweler or goldsmith, or a memento of their earliest adventuring days, and each would decide for themselves what to do with it.
And for just a heartbeat, as the pair of men were momentarily captivated by what was, after all, an absolute fortune, Jack was flooded with the bittersweet memories of the happiest month of his life.
A life that now felt no more real to him than a dream. Just like the wonderful night of carousing they had indulged in before a drunken Mitch had still carved their bejeweled chest of gold in six equal portions.
And how gloriously warm and happy Jack had felt at that moment, struck with such a flood of emotion as his friends shared priceless treasures without a second thought, honor, friendship, and trust, and the love of their people, sustaining them like heroes of old.
Such a stark contrast from the bleak and bitter present, Jack thought as the rogue seemed almost to fight with himself, a single clawed hand reaching for the absolute fortune in flashing wealth clacking on the cobblestones by their feet.
And Jack knew that single heartbeat of desperate avarice was his only chance of survival.
Finesse check made!
Bursting into desperate action, his Ridgehand strike smacking down against his preoccupied foe's knife wrist just as his father had taught him, buying him only the blink of an eye as his enemy instantly sensed the threat and with his pockmarked face a twisted mask of hate, showcased his deadly speed and power by ramming forward with his blade, effortlessly smashing aside Jack's desperate counter, as he managed to leave a bloody gash, scraping a rib.
Only to scowl in surprise when Jack's alternate fist actually managed to touch the man's nose, just barely, thanks to the rogue's greater strength and quickness, with hardly any force behind the blow.
The pockmarked rogue's cold smile made it clear what he intended to do to Jack for even thinking of harming him... before his face exploded in a fiery torrent of absolute destruction.
You have critically struck Level 5 Rogue with Spell Boosted Bloodflame!
Opponent's face has been critically disfigured. Your foe fails to save against blindness. Your foe has no lips. Your foe has no tongue! Enemy rogue has managed to swallow liquid flame.
Your mana continues to feed the blaze!
Critical hit damage has multiplied! Death cascade is in effect!
Lungs have been seared!
Your opponent is asphyxiating!
You have saved versus Punctured Lung. You have taken 1 additional Light Wound.
And Jack didn't wait for his enemy to lash out with mind whips in the heartbeats he drowned in his opponent's inhuman shrieks from a throat that shouldn't be making any sound at all, and soon wouldn't, as his thrashing, squirming, dying rogue desperately kicked the ground in his final death throws while Jack was rolling, rolling for all he was worth, leaving blood behind and still having to choke back a scream as a cord of silver pierced his side.
"You will pay for that, worm!" roared the furious Mind mage as Jack cried out and stumbled to the ground, having lost control of his legs that quickly, the mentalist's glare equal parts fury and fear. "Men! Attend me! Usling roared, before turning once more to glare at Jack.
Only for his ugly grey eyes to widen with horror at what he saw in Jack's hand.
"No, impossible!" the mentalist hissed. "You're no elf!"
Jack, pale and dizzy as he heaved great big gasps of air said nothing a he stumbled back, not even bothering to catch the ragged tendril of silver slowly slipping back in the mentalist's mind as he desperately clawed for the silver handle of what could only be a wand, strapped to his waist.
Jack took advantage of that desperate moment as best he dared. "Scutum glacias! Lapis Armis!" he roared, a shield of crimson ice and ochre colored helm, cuirass, gauntlet and greaves the color of dried blood instantly forming as he whispered the spell he dreaded above all others.
"Sana Injuriam," he said, refusing to take his eyes off his foe even as he fought against dizziness, feeling his mana draining away.
A quick glance to his left showed three armsmen wearing armaments similar to the man he had just brought down, jackets of rawhide covered in plates of iron, with cuir bouilli greaves and half helms of hammer hardened iron, all glaring at Jack with slaughter clearly on their minds.
And Jack waited precious moments as his enemies closed and his foe finally pulled free his wand, waited for his singular healing spell that he had actually managed to get up to Journeyman rank to fuse together just enough burst vasculature that Jack wouldn't bleed out any more than he already had. One heartbeat after another passed as death loomed ever closer, Jack only then summoning forth his trump card.
"Voco Apis!" he roared while crouching under his roundshield that rocked with the cracking sound of deflected gunfire... or stones shot form a wand with the force of a bullet.
And how grateful he was that his Crimson shield deflected stones that might have torn right through him, showcasing just how deadly a wand mage could be, even if they were unable to pivot around a warrior showcasing the major reason why sword and shield formations shared the battlefield with the king of all weapons, spear and halbered. Their ability to neutralize enemy missile fire while still marching forward was unmatched. Whether it be arrows, sling stones, crossbow bolts, or, in this case, stones shot with the cracking force of bullets.
"Kill him, fools!" the mentalist roared.
Jack winced. Because no matter how good his shield, it meant nothing if he was pinned long enough for the Magister's men to smash Jack to the ground and disembowel him on the spot.
"Sagitta Acidum!"
But thanks to a certain Enhancer whose friendship he would forever treasure, he had an answer for the death rapidly racing towards him, shooting multiple softball-sized globes of acid now streaking through the air before splitting once, twice, and splattering against two raised shields that were smoking and dissolving on contact. As well as the face of the third screaming guard, clawing the flesh off his own body as he collapsed to the ground, his two companions lurching, of balance, crying out just from the peripheral spray smoking against unprotected limbs.
Which was the perfect time to strike, Jack thought, fully crouching under his shield as the cracking sound of stone resumed.
"I will have your head for this, worm! I will tear free your soul and make you dance to my strings for eternity!"
Jack's only response was to fork his jutting fingers, the acid arrows now split to hit high and low, desperately parrying guardsmen still screaming in pain when shields raised high to protect their heads exploded in their faces as the thin wooden barriers were completely eaten through, before collapsing in furious howls when balls of caustic goop splattered against their legs, dissolving the leather armor they wore before eating into flesh and bone.
You have successfully crippled 2 Guardsmen. You have successfully slain 1 Guardsmen. Experience earned!
Jack then flashed his final nemesis a cold smile. "Shall we?"
The mind mage's eyes flashed with absolute hate. He drew himself to his full 6+ foot height. "You dare to use such a tone with me, you insolent cur? What you have suffered so far is just a taste of—"
"Sagitta Acidum!"
The suddenly panicked mind mage darted back, waving desperately with his wand.
And much to Jack's surprise, the doomed mentalist's desperate maneuver actually worked, the balls of acid weaving wide and smacking against the ancient cobblestones where they hissed and smoked and pitted the stone. And though Jack felt a certain cold satisfaction at the way the man blanched at the sight, he couldn't help but feel a chill of apprehension at how effortlessly the man had forced aside his spell, not just striving to parry a physical projection, like Jack himself was doing.
"Die!" his opponent roared, wand jutting out with a crack Jack parried, but only just, and it was only thanks to his mother's lessons that he actually sensed the threat looping around for the back of his skull.
Deadly tendrils he was all too eager to meet as he lashed out with his right hand, yanking the surprised mentalist right off his feet.
You have successfully Pinched your opponent's gift! (An extension of the soul.)
And between one eyeblink and the next, all arrogance left the glaring mentalist upon catching sight of the spindle forming out of thin air. A spindle rapidly spooling up silver cords of dominion streaming from a man now radiating equal parts surprise and horror as Jack sprinted forward, smashing his foe to the ground with his shield of frozen blood, Jack quickly stomping heel against deadly wand hand while frantically spooling up the now desperate mage's psyche.
Spinning it up with ever greater furvor as the mage's furious struggle for his wand became a jerking spasm, ending in a horrific screech once Jack had successfully spooled up all of his foe's mental affinity, and was just a jerk away from pulling free his enemy's very soul.
Only for the cord to jerk tight as the former mentalist collapsed with a scream, and with a single slice of his silver sheers, it was done.
Skillcheck failed! Mentalist's Soul Cord is too thick for your Spool to claim.
You have successfully sheered your opponent's gift!
Congratulations! Pinch, Spool, and Sheer have each gone up 1 Rank!
Shaking hands cupped ears pouring blood as the now broken mage gazed up at Jack in horror.
"What did you do, you monster? What did you do?"
Jack flashed a smile just as pitiless as the magister's had been, only seconds before. "I think you already know what I did. Magister Usling."
"No, no, impossible! There's no way you could know my name!" the furious mentalist glared and howled with wand in hand as Jack deliberately stepped back, holding his shield far more casually than he should.
Yet it made no difference.
No matter how the trembling mage grimaced and scowled, face turning beet red with concentration, all the wand did was shake in his hands. And when his foe actually shouted out the words to his spell as he jutted forth his wand... "Jacio Funda!" there was no crack of deadly stone shot.
There was nothing at all. Nothing but a wild-eyed whimpering man, gazing at Jack with absolute horror. "You stole my gift. You stole my gift!"
Jack smirked in cold satisfaction, but refused to play the fool. The enemies before him seemed to be crippled, but all he had to do was look at the remains of the rogue who had so effortlessly blindsided him earlier to know just how vulnerable he was.
He turned to glare at the pair of surviving guardsmen, now whimpering with pain and the horror of their disfigurements, who had been so eager to kill him, just moments ago. But he wasn't worried about threats from them, as their legs were covered in caustic burns. But still...
He frowned, thinking rapidly as he looked at the supplies that had graced his soul pouch during a halcyon month that now seemed more ephemeral than real. Yet he remembered countless hours working intently by his friends' side, mastering one particular rune as he, Mitch, and Sharon forged their first artifacts using their combined affinities, so many near disasters ending in goodnatured curses and laughter... before glorious success had finally been theirs.
Works of wonder as real as the disk of frozen blood he held even now, sold to Carl and Master Mercator for what he knew would be an absolute fortune. No matter that for him, it had all been no more real than a dream over an endless month he had really spent holed up in the final room of a dungeon, desperately striving to master yet another elemental affinity in ways so unorthodox, fusing earth with blood, that it had nearly killed him. For all that countless immortals had followed a similar theme, giving life to clay, in creation stories without end. Perhaps that the only reason why he had been permitted to live at all.
That, and the affinities he had already forged with the crimson tinted Elemental Armor he wore even now.
And if he was wrong about Air... should his desperate hunch prove flawed... well, he'd be a dead man soon enough, or have forged himself a class leagues beyond any other, so no need to worry about it, he thought as he pulled out the chalk and powdered crystal he shouldn't even have in his soul pouch, but did, and in plentiful supply.
He shook away the overwhelming sense of disorientation, snapping back into the moment, knowing that now, of all times, he had to focus on the moment, lest he wished for an end just as grizzly as the rogue's had been.
With a quick look back at his enemies, who hardly seemed to have noticed his temporary daze in any case, he immediately began drawing runes in chalk and blood in a wide circle just as fast as he could sign his name, before standing upright once more and cricking his back, meeting Usling's terrified gaze with a smile. "Your gift is gone and you're never getting it back. But that's not what I would be worrying about if I were you."
"What is it you want!?" the former mentalist sobbed as Jack carefully picked up the discarded wand, aiming the tip at the closest guard now shrieking for mercy and stumbling back, as Jack aimed and fired.
"Jacio Funda!"
He frowned with the sound of stone shot cracking against the screaming guard's acid-pitted helm. Before placing the magical treasure in storage, then jutting out his hand, and repeating the spell. "Ah. I see. It cuts down on cost and increases accuracy. Does it work on any other spells?"
Usling blinked, before nodding desperately. "Yes, yes! You're a mage, I see. Of course you are!" He chuckled bitterly. "It will boost any Tier 1 spell, and it is but the least of the prizes that could be yours, if you're savvy enough to present yourself before an employer that could make use of your remarkable gifts. An employer that, should you swear to spare my life, I can present you to personally, with the best reference any could ask for, having proven yourself in the crucible of combat, as I myself can attest!"
Jack nodded thoughtfully, ignoring the man's simpering, desperate smile.
"Good to know. Now, let's assume I'm not a complete idiot, stupid enough to believe I've somehow won you over, after breaking and humiliating you. As if you could possibly have any plans for me save a particularly grizzly death. What could you possibly say that would make letting you fools live worth the risk?"
The bald monster of a man who had so gloried in his imagined dominance but seconds ago now shuddered and sobbed as formerly intimidating steel grey eyes peered desperately into Jack's own. "My gift has been broken. All the countless hours I spent in pursuit of mastery mean nothing! There's no way I can know what you want. I don't know what you want!"
Jack smirked. "Good point. I did sort of cripple you, didn't I?" He flashed his silver sheers beneath the whimpering man's throat. "Snipped it right out. Too bad I was unable to tear out your soul just as easily." He flashed a fierce grin, studying his foe carefully for any reaction besides fear. "Eric's was much easier to claim."
Usling's eyes widened with horror. "Monster! Such is impossible for any human! Only vile Grey Witches are capable of such arts, and my clan has already purged them!"
"You so sure about that?" Jack smiled, and for the first time since he left his village, he eased the cheerful spirit forever following his mother's final blessing. Such a tiny thing, so similar to the helpful sprites responsible for so much of Lauren's power and the real reason why her spell had come so easily to him as they rested after fighting for their lives, Jack finally revealing what thick locks of hair that never shifted with movement or breeze had hidden so well.
Ears that looked like anyone else's on the bottom, with lobes just like he remembered on Earth. yet now, in this life, they swept up in shallow points. Just as his sisters' did. Just as girlfriend's had, a lifetime ago.
A secret so well hidden, not one of his friends had even suspected one was being kept.
A secret no one knew, save the girl who had once held him close after muscles were sore from a long day working the fields with his father, or comfort his melancholy when his mind was haunted by nightmares after aiding his mother and far older sisters in their midnight weavings, dispatching so many foes that had once dared to hunt for Hidden Grove.
Hunting down even the rumor of enemies eager to cleanse the world of a certain grey witch and her clan.
Not that Lady Windridge would ever let them get close. The whispers in the ether of malicious intent was all the provocation she needed to act.
And his mother's gentle blessings, so that her youngest would forever forget his grim midnight duties until he had reached the age of his majority, meant that it was nightmares alone his betrothed had soothed away. Jack finally waking up to bitter memory and secrets revealed only after his mother's dark blessing in the final desperate struggles to save the town his adventuring friends had made their own.
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At town he could never return to, daring still the Path of Peril.
Just like his sisters had, so many years ago. Yet somehow they had found the path back to the village of their birth, no matter the decades that separated each of his mother's children, having walked a path so similar to their mother's, assuring that the legends of the Grey Witches forever lived on.
Sisters whose ages he had never before dwelled upon. For their elven blood made them nearly ageless, as did their walking a path so similar to his own. For all that they had long since settled down, now mothers with families of their own, the skills they had gained as Soul Weavers daring the Path of Peril meant that they would never age a day, and were heirs to power Jack could only dream of. Yet they had never seemed to be more than his doting big sisters taking care of him along with his nieces and nephews while growing up, while their mother and father were away handling things he could only now fathom. Save for those nights that they were so much more, teaching Jack skills they never thought their lazy, beloved, spoiled little brother would ever have cause to use.
Until he did.
Nights he had completely forgotten, until now.
Jack smirked, wondering how much of Yohan Silvercrest's words had been an act, knowing damn well who his mother was, what his family was capable of, having walked a path far darker than any puttering arcane experimenter.
Having adventured right beside his mother and father, his was almost certain, a lifetime ago.
All of their souls covered in blood, monsters to the world, to everyone save themselves and the town they had rescued, countless years ago.
And his parent's adventuring companion had managed to teach Jack the absolute best spells he could have hoped to learn as an apprentice, let alone in a single afternoon, all while playing the role of mercurial instructor, displeased by a student with such potential only waking up to the paths before him on his 18th birthday.
As if his mother would have ever allowed it to be otherwise.
And Jack could only wonder what lessons and wisdom his own parents might have taught Yohan's offspring, when perhaps they had gone off to forge their own destinies, who knew how many years ago.
All of them taking the roles they needed to, Jack suspected, for the sake of each other's children.
And somehow he was utterly certain that had he never truly woken up at all, had he continued to live his dream of a life, and want nothing more than to marry the girl he had known all his life and one day take over the family farm, he would have been allowed to do just that. The indulged youngest offspring in a clan full of half-elven Soul Weavers.
And what an irony it was that it had been the least of goblins, on a day when he had both remembered and forgotten so many precious secrets, that had nearly spelled their sanctuary's doom.
Goblins and a former bitter resident kicked out years ago. Who himself had been just a pawn of a certain hooded Rune Master, those runes alone allowing them to bypass his mother's spiritual guardians.
It was an unforgivable breach in their town's defenses. He could only hope she had found a counter to Obscuro, and any other rune used by a certain hooded master Jack had every intention of one day growing powerful enough to put down, once and for all.
And all that meant nothing to Usling, now trembling at the sight of ears that were the mirror of Jack's sisters.
For all that he looked like a pureblood human, and thought of himself as human, in every other way.
Jack swallowed and shook his head, suppressing the weakness of his own trembling hands, refusing to give anything away as he glared down at a foe now calling him an abomination, roaring for his death.
Which made no sense, Jack thought, when he should be doing his utmost to shrivel into easily forgotten insignificance and plead for his life. Not antagonize the halfblood who could so easily kill him.
Before Jack sensed the disruption of one of the chalk sigils behind them.
And he instantly knew.
Spinning around with a handful of chalk and crushed crystal, tossing it in the air, catching peripheral sight of a certain mentalist's furious smile.
"Ventus Zephyrus!"
Before the magistrate lurched back, howling, as a blast of chalk and stinging crystal shards gave his face a ghostly pallor, as well as filling his eyes with so much grit he fell to the ground with a scream, temporarily blinded.
As did the outline of a cloaked figure Jack's mind had to fight even to focus on, the scout, rogue, or assassin, whatever it was, only visible as a chalky blur against the background and screams, and Jack didn't hesitate to seize the single heartbeat in time his foe had stumbled, knowing just how deadly boosted stats and too many hit points could be in any game he had ever played.
Because the gap between levels and experience, elite players and trash mobs, was nearly insurmountable, save for extremely rare exceptions.
Like when he or his friends zoned out in a game or were caught flat-footed like fools, finding themselves killed by trash mobs and laughing at their own stupidity before their minds got back in the game and they restarted the mission, absolutely ripping through the content with a flawless run, minutes later.
And Jack sure as fuck wasn't giving this monster, who would normally be so far above him that Jack couldn't even clearly see his opponent when covered in chalk and powdered glass, any opportunity get back in the game and make a flawless run of him.
Jack launched his blood bee and shrieked the words to his go-to ranged spell, not even caring how panicked he sounded as balls of caustic acid streakied through the air, splitting over and over again before splashing against their blurred target, Jack absolutely refusing to take any more chances as he darted away from a howling Usling he could only hope was crippled as he pelted the nearly invisible would-be assassin with caustic death over and over again, no matter how his foe screamed for mercy, or how Jack's eyes teared up and he grew dizzy even forcing his eyes to look straight at his foe.
The air rang with the desperate shrieks of a dying man before they choked off in a horrid death-rattle as volley after volley left the failed assassin as nothing more than steaming bones and dissolving flesh. Only in that moment did the last of the would-be killer's gifts finally fade, and Jack saw the liquified remains for what they were.
The price any adventurer might be forced to pay with a single moment's carelessness, no matter how exalted or mighty they thought themselves.
A single tragic mistake, underestimating even a level 0 noob, could result in the absolute destruction of all they held dear.
It was a trap Jack would do his absolute best not to fall into, no matter how ruthless he had to be.
You have successfully eliminated Level 6 Assassin!
Wind Gust is now Apprentice Rank 1!
Acid Arrow is now Adept Rank 2!
Rune Forging is now Adept Rank 3!
Your Perception has been permanently increased by 1 point to 14, as ancient lessons and a survivor's instincts gives you the vital edge needed to survive hunters forever eager to purge all traces of your mother's clan!
It was only after countless moments of sensing absolutely nothing that Jack finally turned back to the now utterly stone-faced mentalist staring at him so intently.
"Both of my hunters walked the Path of Peril. How the hell is it that you're still alive?"
Jack smirked at that, but refused to be drawn in.
Not until he had redrawn his Lituus rune and he was behind the broken mentalist once more, activated Magesight and his heat sense spell, carefully checking for, and noting, all possible threats, now determined to use them for his own ends, if he possibly could. He then gazed down at the silver spirit sheers had summoned with a single act of will, and 12 mana reserved.
"By being careful, and adventuring with a rogue that would have left your pawns in the dust," Jack said at last, caressing the back of the kneeling man's throat with sheers that were as much spiritual as physical. "Care to guess how sharp sheers that can clip a man's soul might be?"
Of course he was bluffing. He had never even thought of using the deadly tools in his hand in such a way. Certainly his mother hadn't, to the best of his extremely limited knowledge. But as far as threats went, it couldn't be beat.
"Please!" the broken man sobbed, his facade of strength instantly crumpling. "Don't do this. You don't have to do this! There is so much I can show you. So many dark lessons I can teach you! You have so much potential. More potential than I've ever seen in any disciple before!" He nodded desperately. "This is no lie, your potential is incredible. Incredible! Please... allow me to live and I can impart the first most precious lessons any Mind Master must know. And with your abilities, your armaments against our most dreaded foes, their blood in your veins?" he gave a desperate laugh. "You could one day rule our council, become the most powerful among us! Don't you see? Can you not understand? You have broken me, utterly. Without my gift, I am nothing. Less than nothing! But as your teacher, your mentor..." he licked desperate lips. "You're fortunes are my fortunes! As you rise and fall, so do I!"
The whimpering man kneeled before him. "Please, my lord. Spare me, and I will teach you everything I've ever learned, every dark secret possessed by our foes, and every insight tied to our craft that I know! You will rise to heights undreamed, with me to guide and aid you, every step of the way!"
Jack could all but taste the man's desperate tension, forcing a thoughtful smile. "Interesting. I think you just might have managed to say the very words, perhaps the only words, that could have possibly extended your life."
The broken mage flashed a desperate smile. "Truly, I am grateful, my lord."
"Are there any other assassins or adventurers looking to kill me?"
The man adamantly shook his head. "You took out Lord Hecklebart's favorite pair of rooks. Assigned to me only in deference to the gravity of this mission."
Jack flashed a dark smile as he finally picked up the priceless chunk of gold and jewels that had caught so many desperate, hungry eyes, after he had tossed it so casually. Several pounds worth of sparkling goodness, and worth a pretty penny, he was sure.
"Don't be too hard on your former pawn. The gold and jewels are real, and really do catch the sunlight, don't they? Frankly, I don't see how anyone taking the rogue's path could resist being tempted, or at least distracted, even if just for the split second I needed to char their faces to ash."
"My lord! Do you have any idea..." Usling chuckled softly. "Ah, but of course you do."
Jack smiled companionably enough. "Actually I don't. How much would five pounds of gold and a handful of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds this size be worth?"
Usling gazed raptly at the prize Jack held. "It is an absolute fortune, my lord. I would be quite surprised if it couldn't net you a considerable sum at auction. The Arcane Academy in particular might be interested, as rumor goes that treasures spawned from dungeon depths are particularly suited for mana infusion. And for fools convinced a delver's treasures disappear with the change of seasons, the prudent adventurer would melt down the gold and sell the jewels individually."
Jack frowned. "Wait, so which is it? Would the mage's guild want it? Or do prizes claimed from Delves or living dream are actually disappear with the change of seasons?"
The man flashed an apologetic grimace. "Forgive me, my lord, but I'm afraid I never did bother following up on those contradictory rumors. For all of my powers..." the man flushed hotly. "Former powers, which might soon be yours, I did not concern myself overly with the exploits of those who dared the Path of Peril."
Jack nodded. "Political machinations and dominating your enemies was your specialty, I'm guessing."
The man flashed a pleased smile. "Exactly, my lord." His features quickly paled with the sudden choked off screams of the remaining survivors. "My lord, they were helpless! Why did you..."
Jack shook his head, his face hard and cold. "They were hardened mercenaries, and you'll note they weren't screaming or sobbing at all, by the end. Rather, they were listening to every word I said. Ugly as those wounds were, their vital bits had been well covered in armor, and had only taken splash damage, compared to the others I had killed with acid. And though infection might have ended them, eventually, and they were certainly in pain with all those open acid wounds, I don't believe they were nearly as crippled as they let on, once their shock and horror wore off. Rather, I think they were biding their time."
Jack glared at the pair of wide-eyed corpses clutching their now swollen throats, men who had been moving with surprising frantic strength, after being stung in the back of their necks. "Human flesh isn't nearly as vulnerable to dissolution as undead. Take the assassin back there who really is a pile of melted goop. That overkill had taken four volleys of acid arrows aimed at a single sixth level target. Even with no path to walk, each of those guards had only been hit by a couple globes each. And I don't believe in leaving threats at my back."
The mage's eyes bulged in disbelief. "Are you serious? They were beyond crippled. You seared my men's legs to the bone! And my ace assassin... he is literally a puddle of sludge!"
Jack shrugged. "Either way, I got to rank up my Blood Bee spell. Which is pretty much the most merciful way of safely killing someone that I have." He gazed down almost sadly at a fist full of flame. "Fire and acid that are so damned useful for taking out slimes and undead are kind of a horrific way to go for a human. Nothing like a quick fast bullet to the heart, which would do absolutely nothing to stop an undead revenant, or a slime." Jack gave a thoughtful tilt of his head. "Kind of like Rock, Paper, Scissors, when you think about it."
He then deliberately locked gazes with the fallen mage who flinched, but didn't dare look away. "And if you truly are sincere about changing sides and serving me, even after knowing what I did to Lord Hecklebart's rabid monster of a son, then you already know that there's no way in hell those guards could be allowed to live."
"I... see your point. Yes, of course you are right, my lord."
Jack smirked. "I'm pleased to see that you understand that." His expression hardened. "I assume you have a storage space?"
Usling paled and shook. "Please..."
"Empty it. Empty it of all its treasures while I stand behind you, a single spell away from obliterating you. Touch nothing longer than is needed to explain their functions to me while surrendering all rights and titles of possession to me."
"My lord, please!"
"And in return... so long as you promise to never directly or indirectly come after me or mine, or alert anyone else that I even exist, I swear in turn that neither my blade nor spells will ever pierce your flesh or claim your soul. But I do expect you to keep answering my questions. Are we clear?"
The man stiffened at those words, taking a deep, shuddering breath, before glancing back in surprise. "You mean it. Should I surrender everything I own..." the man flashed a bitter smile at that. "And answer your questions... you will forbear from striking at me further. You will even be willing to walk away."
Jack suppressed the flicker of dread in roiling in his guts. If his foe could sense that much... "See? You're gift is still there. Play your cards right, and who knows what fortunes might come your way."
This earned a bitter laugh. "Being able to taste truth is hardly my gift in full, my lord. But... yes." The man gave a deliberate nod. "I swear to your oath. And now, to reveal my own prizes."
Jack's eyes widened at the absolute fortune revealed. By the time it was over... he shook his head, refusing to let his awe show as he quickly gathered the priceless treasures before him, storing his newly claimed prizes in his soul pouch, the sight of which earned rubbed eyes and looks of disbelief from the fallen mage.
"But how? I can't even focus... Wait, wait! That is no ordinary pouch!"
Jack smirked. "Of course not. It's a pouch of holding"
Usling paled. "And dare I ask... no. No, I don't think I want to know what it's made of." He flashed a weak smile. "Shall we begin our lessons, my lord? Or perhaps seek shelter? The hour is growing late, and there are rumors about this town after dark..."
Jack chuckled softly. "There will always be rumors about one thing or another. So let's discuss the most productive sorts of rumor. Tell me anything and everything there is to know about one Lord Hecklebart, and whatever intrigues the mind mages in the capital city are up to. Assuming your kind is up to any sort of mischief at all?"
To his credit, Usling didn't hesitate to answer. "Your kind as well, my lord, for I have no doubt that your powers as a Mentalist will be nothing short of legendary," he declared, before giving a concise synopsis of all the intrigues and going-ons that he knew about within the capital city, for all that he glanced into the gloom with increasingly nervous eyes as afternoon slowly turned to the gloom of shadows and twilight, while revealing all the ugly secrets of jaded nobles and specialist mages like himself, just beneath the genteel surface of the city Jack would call his own.
And by the time it was done, Jack knew far more about Lord Hecklebart's vices and backstabbing duplicitous ways than he ever wanted to, sickened by all the revelations spilled by a man desperate to grasp even the tiniest ray of hope that he might be extended mercy by the same man he had struggled so fiercely to kill.
Only to find his desperate hopes dashed as Jack revealed the flaw in the pact they had sworn with his sudden departure, Magesight making it clear that guests would be arriving shortly.
"Please! Master! Don't leave me here. Don't leave me! I gave you my oath. I gave you my oath!"
"And I gave you mine," Jack said, refusing even to look back as he deliberately removed the runic barrier he had established earlier. "I won't cast any spells on you, or directly harm a hair on your head. In fact, I won't even trouble you with these pesky runes of warding."
Usling gave a despairing sob, perhaps only then realizing how badly he had been played.
Jack clenched his fist as he made his way out of what now seemed little more than ancient ruins, the shadows so thick it might as well be night already, sensitive ears pricking at the sound of far off moans and snarls of creatures that hadn't disappeared after all with the closing of the rift. Perhaps they, or their ability to manifest, had been severely weakened with the closing of the rift. For certainly Jack had neither seen nor heard any trace of them when the sun had been high overhead, Magesight alone having pinged enemies locked in an odd daytime stupor.
A stupor that left them as soon as their forms were caressed by the shadows and gloom, and night soon to come.
A fact Jack had been counting on it when enticing an enemy he dared not let live into revealing all his secrets. Because Jack might have given his word to cause Usling no harm, but the undead remnants still haunting this town? That was a different story.
And Jack had no doubt they would do a damn fine job of cleaning up loose ends, if the broken psionicist's desperate shrieks were anything to go by.
And the twinge of hot guilt he felt twisting in his gut?
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, pushing away the horror of his own actions. Desperately thinking back on the smiling faces of his friends he now thought of as family.
Friends that Usling and his henchmen, including both a rogue and assassin who had dared the Path of Peril, had dedicated themselves to hunting down and destroying.
Jack shuddered as the screams grew to desperate shrieks that abruptly cut off, knowing that at least now, his friends would be safe. Safe in a wondrous sanctuary where honor, bonds of friendship, and happy endings actually meant something. A hidden valley more fable than real, even for this world, and all one needed to do was take a single step through dream to find the way to the sanctuary their hearts so desperately craved. A sanctuary he had somehow sensed, when his blood had mingled upon the boundary stones with his friends, would open itself to any good man or woman seeking solace and a fresh start... and no one else.
A sanctuary Jack had willingly paid a price in blood and potency to help set up, and would now do anything to protect.
No matter how dark a path he was forced to walk.
"One of these days you and I are going to have a very long chat, Lord Hecklebart," Jack whispered under his breath after securing the reins of a pair of mounts that had been secured at the outskirts of the ruined town.
He took only the time necessary to free the other mounts and befriend the pair he had claimed with apples, strokes, and gentle whispers before mounting the most docile of the two and heading out of the ruined city already thick with shadows at a fast canter, flame filled hand the only warning Jack would give to anyone or anything seeking to bar his path.
If any undead or predatory wolves sought to ambush him... he flashed a grim smile, guarded by ice and earth, his free hand curled in a fist, blazing with blood-red flame he was almost eager to unleash.
But his Magesight and heat vision detected nothing save a single pair of twisted forms a fair distance away that could only be ghouls... avoiding him entirely as they made their way to where the Jack's enemies had fallen.
Nothing even came close to disturbing his stately retreat.
And quicker than Jack would have thought possible, he found himself on the main road leading to the capital city of Greycliff, home to a grand arcane academy, magnificent architecture, extensive gardens, and public works that were the envy of the entire duchy, if evening fireside tales beside his friends and the desperate final words of his enemy were anything to go by. Though its greatest claim to fame, as far as he was concerned, was the city dungeon open to anyone mad enough to dare it's perils, conveniently located right under the very arcane academy he hoped one day to enter.
He took a deep breath and smiled as his eyes danced over the wondrous landscape of forest and field and snow-capped mountains marching off in the distance, all of it blessed by the most magnificent crimson gold sunset he could imagine, for all that forest and ruins had already been consigned to gloom. Yet Jack appreciated one last glimpse of the red-gold light, visualizing all his dark deeds and bitter regrets fading forever into the past, just like the glorious setting sun.
He had been blessed with incredible growth in an astoundingly short period of time, and level 0 or no, he already knew he was on the cusp to achieving at least one of his dreams.
Forging a class like no other, one that promised power and limitless possibilities both.
Best of all, tomorrow was the start of a beautiful brand new day, and he couldn't wait to experience all the wonders, magic, and mystery, the coming days would have in store for him.
And those were his final thoughts as he warded the tree he carefully roped himself a hammock in the branches above, while his horses contentedly nibbled the grass nearby.
Before embracing the sleep of utter exhaustion, untroubled by regret or dream.
When the birds chirped with the dawn, he immediately woke and embraced the day with a cheerful smile, eager to begin his journey once more.
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Jack Evergreen Class Undecided Level 0
Primary Attributes
Strength 12 (Exceeds 74% of base population)
Vitality 13 (Exceeds 83% of base population)
Finesse 14 (Exceeds 90% of base populationd)
Quickness 13 (Exceeds 83% of base population)
Perception 14 (Exceeds 90% of base population
Scholarship 15 (Exceeds 95% of base population)
Willpower 13 (Exceeds 83% of base population)
Charisma 13 (Exceeds 83% of base population)
Insight. - Gold Tier
Health 10xVit+Str+(10xlevel) = 142
Stamina 10xVit+Str= 142
Mana = 150
Base Appearance 11 (Slightly above average.)
Virtues
Rapid Learner
Explosive Growth
Plane Walker
Flaws
Painful Healing
Secret Identity (Mild) Half-elf. Mutated ears are hidden by thick hair & friendly air sprite. General appearance is otherwise within human norms.
Dark Secret (The blood of Elven Grey Witches flow through his veins. If any Mind Mage discovers this, his life will be imperiled.)
Perks Earned in Game
Rank 2 Diligent Arcanist. +30 to Mana pool.
Rank 1 High intensity training. +10 to Mana pool.
Forged in Battle +1 to Perception & all physical stats.
Rank 1 Fire Affinity / Rank 1 Water Affinity / Rank 1 Blood affinity / Rank 3 Soul Weaver Affinity! - Spells associated with those schools are cast as if wielder has additional ranks in underlying arts = to affinity.
Favorite Skills
Firestream (Blood Flame) - Adept Rank 2 (Potency, Bloodflame)
Geyser - Adept Rank 1. / Tier 2 Greater Geyser - Apprentice Rank 1
Ice Shield (Blood Shield) - Journeyman Rank 5 (Resilience)
Earth Armor (Blood Armor) - Journeyman Rank 1 (Reduced Reserves)
Acid Arrow - Adept Rank 2 (4 for 1)
Rune Forging - Adept Rank 1 (Blood Rune, Arcane Forger)
Lesser Healing - Journeyman Rank 1 (Painful healing penalties minimized!)
Tier 1 Soul Weaver Arts: - Snip/Pinch/Spool - Apprentice Rank 2
Tier 2 Soul Weaver Arts: - Shear/Fabricate - Apprentice Rank 2
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Skills of Significance
Survival Skills: Homesteading – Novice Rank 5 / Wilderness Survival – Novice Rank 5 / Stealth – Apprentice Rank 2 / Tracking – Apprentice Rank 1 / Herbalism – Novice Rank 5 / Cooking – Novice Rank 5 / Climbing – Novice Rank 5
Social Skills: Interrogation – Novice Rank 4
Miscellaneous Skills: Weaving - Novice Rank 5
Martial Skills: Archery – Apprentice Rank 3 / Shield and Weapon – Journeyman Rank 1 (Situational Awareness) / One handed blades – Novice Rank 4 / Brawling – Novice Rank 2 / Polearms – Novice Rank 3
Arcane Skills: Natural Alchemy (Includes Blood Alchemy & Poisons) – Novice Rank 5 / Arcane Perception – Apprentice Rank 3/ Spellboost - Apprentice Rank 1
Magical Arts Learned
Rune Forging - Adept Rank 3. (Includes Blood Runes which are 50% more powerful and require no exotic ingredients but have a potency cost).
Runes Known
(Obscuro (conceal) / Lituus (warning) / Resilience Condio (Suspended Animation) / Manus (Strength) / Robus (Vitality )
New perk unlocked! Bloodfire runes may now be forged!
Bloodfire runes enjoy 50% of the potency of standard bloodrunes for 1/4th the potency cost of standard Bloodrunes. Note. Bloodrunes may only be forged upon organic surfaces subject to burning.
Druidic Arts (Path of Blood is open to you.)
Sphere – Animal
Tier 1 Spells – Summon Giant Killer Bee (Blood Bee) – Apprentice Rank 3
Sphere – Herbam
Tier 1 Spells – Fecund Growth – Novice Rank 5
Clerical Arts
Sphere – Healing
Tier 1 Spells – Lesser Healing. - Journeyman Rank 1. Feat Chosen - Painful Healing flaw penalties reduced. Now pay 150% Base cost with no mood penalty.
Elementalist Arts
Sphere - Fire
Tier 1 Spells – Firestream – (Adept Rank 2+ Bloodflame = never having to say you're sorry or pay additonal EX! Contest of Wills lets it pierce arcane defensive wards... double damage for double cost or 66% of novice baseline (since lowered to 1/3) - additonally... Potent Flame Perk - x1.25 additional damage, factoring all bonuses and variables! Opponents have -4 to all skillchecks to counter Potent Flame. - Adept Rank 2
Sphere – Air
Tier 1 Spells – Wind Gust – Apprentice Rank 1
Sphere – Water
Tier 1 Spells – Geyser – Adept Rank 1. - NOW Tier 2 Geyser - Apprentice 1 / Ice Shield – Journeyman Rank 3
You may choose a specialization. (Choice retroactively made) Elementalist aptitude allows for Resilient Ice Shield! Your Ice Shield now has a bit of the resilience and flexibility of Mother Earth itself! In addition to absorbing 5 points per rank of damage from every blow parried, your Ice Shield also has HP = to 5x skill rank. Damage to shield beyond amount automatically absorbed will be drawn from this HP pool before shield bursts and the damage falls to you!
Ice Shield is now Journeyman Rank 5! Bloodshield Variant found! At significant potency cost, you can boost your shield's ability to absorb damage by an additional 50%! Additionally, this variant is particularly resistant to flame (Bloodfire synergism detected).
Sphere – Earth
Tier 1 Spells – Stone Shot – Apprentice Rank 1 / Elemental Armor – Journeyman Rank 1 (Reduced Reserves)
Enhancer Arts
Acid Arrow - Adept Rank 2 - Perk Path chosen: Double split arrow... one acid globe can split into 4! Cost is 1/3 of Base, Damage is + 170% or 270% of base, x4 shots!
Witch Arts
Personal Wind Ward, Rank 1. Sing a song, appeal to the spirits, and be protected from most projectiles! 10 mana to reserve. Novice Rank 1.
Soul Weaver Arts
(Childhood Training and Natural affinity = +3 Rank affinity with this school!)
Tier 1 Snip, Apprentice Rank 2 / Pinch - Apprentice Rank 3 / Spool - Apprentice Rank 3.
Tier 2 Shear - Apprentice Rank 3 / Fabricate - Apprentice Rank 2
Ancient affinities locked away long ago when your mother thought you would walk a far gentler path have been awakened once more! - Tools of the trade include enchanted Silver Spirit Needles, Sheers, and Spool. Summoned at will.
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Author's Note:
How skill ranks translate into added spell potency.
All tiers have 5 ranks before graduating to the next tier. Master Tier being the sole exception. Every Novice Rank increases damage by 5%. This progresses to 10% for Apprentice Ranks, 15% for Journeyman Ranks, 20% for Adept Ranks, 35% for Elite Ranks & 30% for Master Ranks.
A Master Rank 1 spell would have a 455% damage bonus, multiplicative of all other bonuses.
Each rank in a spell also decreases cost and time of casting such that Novice Rank 5 = 75% of base cost and casting time, Apprentice Rank 5 = 52.5% of base cost and casting time, and Journeyman Rank 5 = 34% of base cost and casting time, with similar progression from there.
How power levels in an underlying school magic affect spell potency.
Every 3 levels earned in a given school will allow one to cast the next order of spells, such that a Fire mage with Level 3 in Fire magic will be able to study and learn first and 2nd Order spells. It would cost 1+2+3 level-up points to cast 2nd Order spells. To cost 3rd order spells would require Level 6 in the underlying art, or an additional 4+5+6 level-up points.
All other things being equal, cost and casting times will double, and the power of the underlying spell will triple, with each increasing tier of magical spells. A Third order Firestream spell will have 4 times the cost, 4 times the casting time, and do 9 times the damage of its first order equivalent.
Levels in any magical art for a basic mage, or for a cluster of magical arts associated with a particular class (such as witchery, an advanced class that allows multiple schools of magic to rank up under that 1 class skill) will result in a 33.3% increase in the magnitude of every spell associated with that sphere. This is multiplied by the total percentage bonus of a particular spell. Finally, this total is multiplied by any additional feats or other modifiers that may add a further damage bonus.
A basic magus who has raised the school of Fire to Level 3 (easily done at Level 1 for a cost of 6 character points if they walk the Path of Peril) will enjoy a 100% Damage increase with all flame spells and be able to cast first and second order flame spells. If said fire mage achieved Apprentice Rank 5 With the Firestream spell, he would do 200% x 175% = 350% base firestream damage, in addition to any other modifiers or perks the mage might have in play.