4th June 1329
Douglas Keep, Douglas,
Scotland,
Earth.
Smoke wafted into the night sky as Duncan leant against a stone wall inside the gatehouse, sheltering from enemy view.
Bales of hay were being burnt about ten yards from the wall in a large circle surrounding the keep. The fires illuminated the battlements, obscuring the town in shadow and smoke.
Duncan, trusted with a watch for the first time, tried to peer out towards the town where the enemy lay.
A crossbow bolt clanged off the battlements beside his head, causing him to flinch back. Involuntarily, he reached up with a hand to ensure his kettle helmet was still in place.
Lady lay asleep beside him. She'd twitched at the sound, her brown eyes opening to check all was well before closing once more.
She huffed discontentedly at the interruption.
The fires were preventing the defenders from seeing much beyond their glow, allowing the Comyn force the advantage of remaining hidden during the night.
There had already been two assaults since the first. The defenders driving them off in short order.
The cost, however, had been more than the mere arrows. Four men now lay dead. One guard and three townsfolk.
Amongst the dead was the tavern keeper’s youngest son. The boy was only two years older than Duncan and had received a deep wound early in the fighting. It had been cleaned and bound, but it quickly festered.
Rather than rest, the young man insisted on joining the fight to repel the latest assault by Comyn’s men. The enemy placed ladders upon the wall before dawn. They'd been detected shortly after, and almost one hundred men had attempted the climb, swarming up the fresh cut timber's. A hail of crossbow bolts from their lines to keep the defenders' heads down continued through the attack.
Duncan had little to do with Seamus growing up, but he'd heard stories of his impetuous nature.
The tavern keeper's son had proven himself brave beyond reason a final time, trying to push a ladder from the walls as bolt after bolt whizzed past him.
Just as he tipped the ladder past the point of no return, an attacker nearing the top lunged forward to grab Seamus' arm.
Instead of withdrawing to the safety of the wall and bringing the ladder back with him, Seamus had leapt from the walls. Duncan thought he too would prefer a quick death to a lingering one beset with fever.
His body lay there still, visible just beyond the fires surrounding the keep where he fell.
The Tavern keeper had been distraught, but rather than taking up arms to defend the keep, he began speaking against the Lord of Douglas and the King openly. Sir Keith soon had enough of the man and locked him in the stables to calm down.
His remaining sons were uncomfortable with their father’s incarceration, but accepted it, knowing that by speaking out against the lord - and worse, the king - he was only making things more difficult to forgive when he came to his senses.
His sons had mourned briefly. Sir Keith had taken them off duties for a time so they could grieve with their father. They quickly returned to the walls. Both with hard faces that told of harder words.
All of the men had levelled, as had Duncan and Lady.
Duncan was now at level nine, putting him one level above Sir Keith and Colm, who both were still at level eight. The levels did not, however, reflect his ability, experience, or status. Something Duncan knew well, which was why he’d requested this watch so he could learn from experience.
He’d assigned his attributes as best he could, hoping that he could improve the weaker areas with time. Like many others, he’d increased his vitality and agility to move around the keep more quickly. He also hoped that it would allow him to take hits that would otherwise cripple or kill.
He opened up his statistics sheet to reassure himself of the wisdom of his choices.
Statistics Tablet of Duncan Baker
Titles: ****** ********
Name: Duncan Baker
Level: 9
Race: Human
Class: None
Age: 13
Tribulation Experience: 497/596
Health: 120
Magic: 170
Stamina: 100
Available Attribute: 0
Strength: 8
Agility: 8
Vitality: 12
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 6
Charisma: 16
Luck: 14
Faith: 10
Will: 17
Skills:
Sword: 1
Animal Husbandry: 28
Manners: 8
Tactics: 3
Baking: 21
Light Armor: 2
Maintenance: 8
Stealth: 12
Chivalry: 2
Shields: 2
Housekeeping: 13
Mathematics: 2
Reading: 4
Athletics: 11
Spears: 1
Archery: 3
Abilities
Identify: Level 1
Inspired Speech Level 1
The three statistics he most wanted to increase now were strength, agility, and wisdom, all of which were still below ten. He and a few of the other lads had grown because of their increased vitality, and now he was as tall as Sir Keith. Colm still overtopped them by a good few hands, but now Duncan looked more a man and less a boy. His two-point increases in strength and agility had done little to fill him out, however.
They made the mail he now wore more comfortable, though, and he no longer felt like the armor was dragging him to the earth. He could run, jump and move far more freely now.
When he’d first put the mail on, the Seneschal had stifled a laugh. It hung over his hands as though it were a sheet instead of a tight-fitting armor. The knight had removed the mail and simply dressed him in a Gambeson for the first few days. As soon as Duncan assigned his vitality, however, he was large enough to fit the mail and now wore the heavier armour.
It was a good thing he had too, the thick metal rings deflecting a sword blow the day before. Lady had savaged the man brutally before Duncan had thrust his spear into the enemy’s throat.
Lady’s teeth were now almost as long as most knives and seemed hard enough to puncture gambeson with ease. She’d grown too and was now nearly as tall as his shoulder when she raised her head. The other hounds followed her as though they were puppies, yelping and nipping at each-other to remain closer to her. Her low growl quelling their exuberance each time they got close to familiar with her.
She still tried to sleep atop Duncan each night in the watchtower, but her massive form was becoming too hot and heavy. Last night he’d shifted her head from atop his chest and instead curled up against her, resting his own head on her flank as a pillow. She had seemed upset for a moment, but soon settled and fell asleep, her master beside her.
All the armsmen now slept in the towers, knowing that they would have very little warning if an attack came.
The townsfolk who had remained at the Keep had organised themselves quickly, setting up beds and duties for themselves within the Donjon of the Keep. Space was tight, but for the fifty or more non-combatants, they made do.
The Tavern Keeper’s wife had been of extreme help to the Seneschal. She’d taken over the management of the stores and supplies and even settled disputes before they escalated.
It turned out she performed the same task at the tavern and was quickly familiar with the duties required.
She’d mourned her son briefly, but instead of blaming others, had simply accepted that his fate was in God’s hands. If He were to take her son early, who was she to judge His will? She would honor Seamus in her memory and carry on for her remaining boys.
She’d looked on in disgust as her husband railed and caused a scene, taking the time to thank the Seneschal when he finally locked him away.
Duncan looked over towards the small stove where a stew lay bubbling upon hot coals. At least the food is good. He thought.
Food, at least, was not a worry. Duncan had overheard a conversation between the elderly knight and the goodwife a day before. It seemed the Seneschal ensured the keeps stores were full in the days before the Lord left. He’d always kept a few months of stored grain and salted meats for the garrison. They now had at least three months of full rations remaining. Long enough for news to reach Lord Douglas and the King.
Sir Keith was certain that as soon as the townsfolk fleeing through the forest reached the neighbouring fiefs, they would raise the alarm and rescue was soon to follow. He’d only expected it to take two days.
As time passed, however, the horizon remained clear of a relief force, and so the men of Douglas had manned the walls, repelled the occasional assault and waited.
Colm approached. He’d been working day and night to train the townsmen as best he could in archery and swordsmanship. So far, the results were mediocre. Two of the twenty townsmen could hit near the target butts, one had hit the outer rings, the rest left arrows embedded in the muddy ground all around the target.
“Hello Lad,” he said as he hunkered down next to Duncan. “I thought I might keep you company on this watch. Your first is always the most boring, and the most dangerous.”
He looked at the fresh scratch marks upon the crenellations from crossbow bolts.
“I see you’re already trying to get yourself killed?” He asked, smiling at Duncan.
Duncan merely looked back at the older man with tired eyes. “If I were, there would be easier ways.” He said with a smile.
“Well, the enemy will not run out of bolts, so keep your head down. We have less than twenty men willing to bear arms now.”
Duncan nodded. He was aware of the situation. While the Lord had left ten men with Sir Keith to garrison the Keep, it was not enough to withstand a sustained assault by over one hundred. With the presence of the twenty townsfolk willing to bear arms and assist, however, those odds swung heavily in the defender’s favour.
Colm had explained it to him. The walls created a significant obstacle to the attackers, and when properly manned would mean that for every ten men trying to take the walls, they needed only one man to defend.
From what Duncan had seen, this proved accurate. Despite the casualties they had suffered, over twenty men lay dead outside the walls. They couldn’t be sure of the number of enemy wounded, but it must be more than their own.
Reinforcements had reached the Comyn Lord, however, and at least one English Baron had also joined his forces. Below in the town, they could hear the hammering of men building siege work.
“How long until they come again?” Duncan asked worriedly.
“It won’t be long surely, but I doubt it will be tonight.” Colm said. “We should go walk the walls, make sure that no mischief is afoot!”
Duncan nodded and got to his feet, carefully avoiding being seen. He crouched low and followed Colm out of the tower onto the battlements. As they left, he spotted Colin, the guardsman who’d received a beating at the hands of the priest’s men. He was back on his feet, which was good. The keep would need all the defenders they could.
It was odd that the man was awake at this hour.
Mentally shrugging, Duncan decided he was probably just relaying a message or taking some food to one of his fellows. Colm hadn’t seen him and was looking over the battlements. He hushed Duncan softly as Lady padded up beside them.
“Can you hear that?” He asked.
Duncan strained his ears. Softly over the burning of the wood, he could hear the jingle of armor and rattle of weapons being carried quietly.
“Aye! It sounds like they’re preparing another assault.”
Colm nodded. “Go tell the men in the gatehouse to stand-to for an assault. I’ll let the other towers know.” He said. “And go wake Sir Keith.”
Duncan left Colm to alert the others as he made his own way back to the gatehouse. He roused the others, waiting until he saw them wiping sleep from their eyes and sitting up. “Colm says there’s an assault coming. Get ready!”
“I’m heading to the keep, to inform Sir Keith and rouse the townsfolk.” Duncan said, clambering down the ladder to the ground. As he dropped out of sight, he saw one of the other men nod his understanding.
Assured that the gatehouse was secure, Duncan sprinted across the inner bailey and up the small series of stairs that made up the entrance of the keep. Tapping urgently at the door, he whispered the password. The door swung open, and he entered, passing one of the shepherd’s wives who stood sentry. He ran through the great hall and up the stairs to the Seneschal’s rooms, Lady following him.
“Sir Keith,” He said, knocking on the door. “Another assault is coming!”
Lady was sniffing under the door and whining, scratching at the frame with large taloned paws. Duncan tried to stop her, but the lack of response from inside was concerning.
There had been no answer at all. Duncan knocked louder. “Sir Keith!” He said, more loudly this time. “We need you at the walls!”
Still no answer. Lady’s scratching was gouging deep marks in the wood.
Duncan turned the latch, surprised to find the door unlocked. He swung it open, his expression betraying the horror of what he saw.
The knight lay in a pool of blood in his bed. Multiple knife wounds marred his face and neck. Somehow, someone had breached the walls and murdered the elderly knight.
Duncan, not knowing what to do yelled out at the top of his lungs. “ALARM! ALARM! EVERYONE AWAKE!”
The hue and cry were enough that the rest of those townsfolk still within the keep were on their feet in moments. Duncan saw his mother barrel into the room, his younger sister tucked under her arm.
“God have mercy!” she said, seeing the elderly knight.
Duncan grabbed the old man’s sword and passed his own to his mother. “There are enemies in the keep, or a traitor!” he said. “Another assault is coming and need to get to the walls! Keep everyone inside, and bar the door. Only open it again if you can see we were victorious. Otherwise, pray for me.”
He kissed her brow and her hand, and left. His mother, clutching Duncan’s sister and a sword she didn’t know how to use, burst into tears. Her hands were full, otherwise she would have reached out and pulled him back, but he left before she could drop the sword.
Duncan and Lady bounded back outside just in time to see the assault begin. Colin, the wounded guard from the town, was standing at the gate. He was struggling to lift the heavy beam which held the gates locked.
Duncan immediately understood what had happened. The bastard! He thought and charged towards the man, yelling “The Gate! Betrayal! Get to the Gate!”
Lady, much faster, leapt at him just as he lifted the beam clear. Her jaws clamping around his throat just as the gate swung open.
Duncan had no choice. He slammed into the gate and tried to push it closed as Lady spilled the last lifeblood of the traitorous Colin. A grunt resounded from the other side of the gate and a force from beyond pushed Duncan back, his legs struggling against the inexorable weight of those beyond. The gap widened, and suddenly Colm was there with Duncan’s father.
As Kieran slammed his weight into the door, the gap quickly closed. Colm, seeing the opportunity, drove two arrows in quick succession through the space. Screams answered and the weight against the door faltered enough for the trio to close the gate.
Just as Duncan’s pa struggled to lift the heavy locking bar, a massive weight slammed against the door, knocking Colm and Duncan flying. The gates, now wide open, revealed a giant of a man. Huge muscles quivered. Evidence of his recent exertion. His face, sweating and pale, was blank, eyes staring as exhaustion took over. He dropped to one knee and then to his back as Lady sprang upon him, bearing him down in a flurry of blood and screams.
Men rushed into the gap, slashing at Lady’s flanks as she ended the man’s life and sprang back. Her hackles rising as she exposed teeth the size of knives.
The onrushing men paused at the sight of the giant hound, allowing Colm and Duncan to get to their feet. As Duncan stood, he inspected the foremost man closely.
Unknown
Level 7
Duncan was shocked at the man's level, but glancing around he could see that somehow the other attackers appeared to have bodies that were similarly enhanced by level growth. Somehow Comyn's force had surpassed even Lord Douglas' men in power. Duncan shuddered with fear, knowing what this meant for the defenders.
The Douglas armsmen, now aware of the breach, rained arrows upon the attackers. Comyn's men fell or shielded their heads as they swarmed forward once more, the rattle of steel arrowheads against wooden shields and steel armour filling the bailey.
Lady, turning in fury, let out a bellowing growl as she grew once more, the glow of a level lighting the area briefly.
This time, her transformation was not merely that of size, but of color and shape. She was now a dark green, her mane of hair grown shaggy and thick. Her once white socks changing color, as did her eyes, to a terrifying green.
An enemy soldier yelled out, “That’s a Cu Sidhe!” Another screamed in terror, dropping his sword and shield, sprinting away. “Run! They have the Sidhe with them!”
Her head distorted into a broader shape, her pointed muzzle becoming more wolf like. Longer and wider simultaneously, making room for her blade-like teeth. Her back broadened, as did her legs. Her tail grew out by one full yard and a bladed bone protruded from the once soft fur at its tip.
Lady flicked it experimentally, and Duncan could see that it was now far more agile, able to move as she willed it.
She let loose a bark that froze everyone in the inner bailey. A man who had been climbing the ladder into the gatehouse had frozen with only two points of contact secured to the ladder. Unable to maintain his hold, he toppled slowly to the ground, landing on his head with a sickening crunch.
Duncan, somehow still able to move, took advantage of the moment. He leapt forward at the attackers. Thrusting with his sword as he trained, he saw his limbs glowing with a new level. He took a man in the neck with his first strike, blood fountaining. His second slammed into a man’s mouth, severing his spine and dropping him.
As his second blow struck home, all hell broke loose. Lady leapt into the mass of enemies just as they returned to motion. Her spear-point of a tail flashing out to puncture through gaps in enemy defences, while her teeth and claws rent and cleaved through armoured flesh.
Duncan was on the defence again, as another attacker broke through the rapidly forming line of Douglas defenders who tried to stem the tide flooding through the gate.
A second bark came just as a sword descended towards Duncan’s head, and the now frozen arm clanged off his helmet, having lost much of its force. Duncan slammed his sword up under the man’s unprotected armpit and into his chest. Turning, he could see Colm, about to be hewn apart by an enormous axe.
Duncan was too far from them to stop the blow, but he hefted his sword and threw it directly at the man bearing the axe. As the effect of Lady’s bark released, the sword’s pommel struck the man in the head. As he fell unconscious, the axe descended upon Colm’s mailed leg, bruising it.
Duncan ran over, exchanging a nod with Colm. “Go get the other hounds, lad. They may be our only chance!” The old warrior bellowed to him above the din of battle.
Picking up his sword, he sprinted towards the stables. As he reached them, he heard the Tavern Keeper bellowing at the top of his lungs. Duncan could hear the man, still grieving his son, was ranting about Lord Douglas. With no time to spare for the man, Duncan quickly set about opening the doors of the kennel and releasing the hounds.
They bolted towards the gate before Duncan had time to corral them. It seemed Lady had them well in hand. The hounds fought with her, tearing at the armoured forms at the gate, and aiding the men of Douglas, giving them a slight respite from the assault.
Lady had retreated now as more of the defenders formed two ranks across the entrance to the Inner Bailey. They were engaged in close combat between the gates, blows being exchanged rapidly and with lethal intent.
Duncan could see the situation was untenable, as three of the Douglas men fell in quick succession. His father, who had been struggling with the locking bar, now lay beneath it, his throat opened by a sword cut.
With tears forming in his eyes, Duncan ordered Lady to lie down. They had only one hope now.
Now prone, she was still waist high to him. Grasping a handful of fur upon her back, he swung a leg over his pet. She growled softly, turning her head and accepting him as a rider. The only way they would survive this was to break out of the bailey and escape to the forest. He was loath to leave his mother and sister, along with the townsfolk, trapped within the keep. He knew that the Keep was far more defensible than the bailey, and the men within would either have to step forward and take up arms or die.
So long as they remained within and refused to surrender, they would be safe for the next few months at least.
He gestured to Colm to mount behind him, and the larger man scrambled upon the hound’s back. Lady stood, huffing as she adjusted to the added burden, and sprang forward. The bouncing made it almost impossible for the pair upon the massive dog’s back to hold on, but somehow, every time they were about to fall, a shift in position from Duncan’s pet brought them back to centre.
As she approached the fighting, Colm called out “Clear a path!” and the men of Douglas stepped aside as Lady slammed between the gap.
Bodies flew as the hound collided with enemy ranks, her size and weight crushing several enemies to death outright. Duncan and Colm barely clung on as Lady bit, clawed and slashed at the enemies while she forced her way through their ranks.
Progress became easier when the men fled, horrified by the gigantic apparition of black fur and bloody teeth. They dropped their swords, axes and spears, holding up shields to hide their faces from the hellish hound or simply leaping back, creating a space around the massive dog.
The remaining men of Douglas followed the hound, desperately seeking a way through the enemies. The men upon the battlements, knowing they were too late, let out a cheer, urging their friends on.
Two more of the men fell as they ran, struck down by spears that were rammed forward by the more agile and courageous of the foes. The golden glow of their slayers briefly illuminated their corpses as the enemies of Douglas gained new levels. Duncan and the others pressed on, Lady’s tail slashing back and forth, wreaking a bloody trail of destruction amongst those who thought to step in behind her.
The archers on the wall, knowing that they were soon to fall, maintained a constant fire to aid their fellows’ passage. Their last stand buying their friends time to escape.
Enemies fell to the darts until a small group of Comyn’s armsmen climbed the ladder of the tower, silencing the archers forever.
The much-diminished party finally broke through the attacking force. Duncan and Colm dismounted, running with the others to allow Lady to cover their retreat. She proved to be an effective and dangerous foe to the pursuers, taking down five men in seconds. The others, seeing the inner bailey was no longer defensible, turned back towards the keep, seeking easier prey.
Knowing that the lack of pursuit would not last long, the party forced themselves to run until they reached the forest. Gasping for air and sweating in the warm night air, they staggered deeper into the woods, coming to a stop when they reached a small clearing under the stars.
Small bushes surrounded the clearing. Hiding their presence from any hostile eyes.
At least for a while.
There were only three men besides Duncan and Colm to have escaped. Two were guardsmen and the other was the Tavern Keeper’s eldest son, who wept at the loss of his remaining brothers.
Duncan was in a daze as he inspected Lady. As he looked her over, he saw multiple wounds upon her flanks, jaws, and legs. She hadn’t complained, but had kept on through the pain, ensuring they all remained safe.
Now, however, she slumped to the ground. A soft whine escaping her jaws.
A spear had passed through her thick fur to embed in her flank. She mewled softly. Her thick wet tongue running like sandpaper over Duncan’s face as he knelt to tend her wound. Colm approached, having seen it too, and taking a knife, cut gently to each side of the wound, causing Lady to kick.
The Irish carpenter barely dodged the blow. “Bloody Cu Sidhe,” he said, dropping his bow onto the snowy ground and smacking her lightly on the muzzle in admonishment.
She settled once more, holding still, as he cut the spear out of her flesh. Once removed, Duncan looked on in surprise as her flesh knit back together. She sat up and began licking the wound. Sparing a quick lick for Duncan and a less enthusiastic lick for Colm.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“What’s a Cu Sidhe?” Duncan asked, still looking at the rapidly closing wound.
“It’s a fairy dog. A hound of the Wild Hunt, at least that’s what my Pa used to tell me.” Colm stood up and looked over at the other men who’d slumped to the ground, breathing hard. “You’d best assign your attributes quickly.”
It was difficult to see much in the forest's darkness. The stars and full moon gave enough light for Duncan to see Colm’s eyes glaze.
He looked past the world, to the visions displayed before him.
It didn’t last long.
“The system tells me I can now choose a Class!” he said. Displaying the vision before him. The soft glow of the text was enough to read, but not to give away their position.
You are now eligible to select a Class.
Available Classes:
Scholar (Rare)
Woodsman (Uncommon)
Kings Guard (Rare)
Yeoman Archer (Rare)
Master Carpenter (Epic)
Duncan hadn’t thought about his attributes, and quickly looked at his statistics screen, wondering if he too would receive a class.
Before his statistics appeared, new visions played across his vision. “I’ve got it too!” he announced.
You are now eligible to select a Class.
Available Classes:
Baker’s Apprentice (Common)
Serjeant Trainee (Uncommon)
Archer Trainee (Common)
Apprentice Rogue Uncommon)
Disciple of Nodens (Rare)
Duncan focussed on the first class.
Bakers Apprentice (Common):
Beginning the pursuit of the crafting of grains, you are choosing to pursue wondrous displays of culinary excellence. A Bakers Apprentice is the first step to greatness in this art.
Each level of Bakers Apprentice grants:
1 Available attribute.
1 Agility.
1 Intelligence.
5 Baking Skill.
Per Level.
Duncan wiped suddenly wet eyes. The reminder of his father’s desire to see him become a baker was suddenly also a reminder of his recent death at the hands of the Comyn’s. Perhaps in another life I could be a simple baker. Now I have a different path. He thought. He closed the vision, focussing on the next class.
Serjeant Trainee (Uncommon):
You are beginning the arduous path of the Serjeant Trainee. An expert in combat and small unit leadership, the Yeoman Serjeant can turn the tide of a battle with expert commands. A Serjeant Trainee is merely the first step along this path.
Each level of Serjeant Trainee grants:
2 Available Attributes.
2 Strength.
2 Agility.
2 Charisma
Per Level.
Sir Keith would want him to accept this class. Duncan crossed himself, saying a prayer for the deliverance of the souls of his father and Sir Keith.
Duncan looked over at Colm, who was also staring at visions unseen to the others. “What statistics do your classes give?” He asked.
“There were a few choices, none of them as appealing to me as my craft. It offers twelve attributes per level and twenty skill each level!”
“For carpentry?” Duncan asked, shocked.
Colm nodded. “Yes lad! For me it’s the only sensible choice, but I’m loath to take it, knowing our position now. We need warriors if we seek to re-take the bailey, but I know we shall need artisans more than soldiers if we are to win this war.”
A golden glow surrounded him, and the darkness of the night was lit by the effects of his choice. Duncan focussed on him.
Colm O’Ceallaigh
Master Carpenter (Epic Class)
Level 11.
“A war?” Duncan asked. “Do you think it will come to that?”
“I do! It’s likely that someone has let slip the news of the King’s condition by now, and that means the English and Balliol will press their claim once more.”
Duncan grimaced. If that were the case, it meant his mother and sister may remain within in the Keep for more than a month. “But we’ve got to go back and free those in the keep!” He said. “My mother and sister are there!”
“Aye lad. But we are only three men and a boy.” He glanced at Lady, who gave a huff. “And a fey dog.” He amended.
“We’ll need much more than this small force if we seek to dislodge the Comyns. Hopefully, they will leave the town after looting. They may even burn it, but we can rebuild. My worry is if they seek to sack the Keep!”
Colm placed a rough hand on Duncan’s mailed shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that for now. Choose your class and assign your attributes. Then we can begin planning our next steps.”
Duncan, reassured by the comforting hand on his shoulder as much as he was by the words, looked once more to his class.
Archer Trainee (Common):
You are beginning the long path of the Archer Trainee. An expert in ranged fighting the Yeoman Archer can send volleys of arrows with great accuracy across entire fields and beyond. An Archer Trainee is merely the first step along this path.
Each level of Archer Trainee grants:
1 Available Attribute.
2 Strength.
2 Agility.
Per Level.
From the last time he’d seen his skills, the Archery was still low. He would be lucky to develop the skill into anything worth a damn before circumstance demanded he use it. The low number of attributes compared to Colm’s 12 per level was also an issue.
He moved onto the next class.
Apprentice Rogue (Uncommon):
You are taking the first shadowy steps along the dodgy path. An expert at infiltration, subterfuge and deception, the Rogue can retrieve information or wealth from any target… by any means. An Apprentice Rogue is merely the first step along the dodgy path.
Each level of Apprentice Rogue grants:
3 Available Attributes.
2 Agility.
2 Intelligence.
2 Will.
Per Level
This he closed almost immediately. While it gave better attributes than any of the other classes, he wasn’t about to become a rogue or a sneak-thief.
He focused on the last class.
Disciple of the Order of Nodens (Rare):
You are beginning a path rarely stepped upon by mortals. Nodens is the master of the hunt, hounds and fishing of the sea. Once King of Alt Cult and the Tuatha de Danaan, many worshipped him as a God, failing to understand the truth of his ascended mortality. Those who master the ways of Nodens are capable of magnificent feats in pursuit of their prey.
Disciples of this order are masters of the hunt, capable of creating Spirit-Links with animals they are familiar with.
A Disciple of the Order of Nodens is taking the first steps along this path.
Each Level as a Disciple of the Order of Nodens grants:
2 Available Attributes.
1 Strength
2 Agility.
2 Intelligence.
2 Wisdom.
1 Vitality.
Per Level.
He grinned immediately and selected this class. A brilliant glow of gold and silver flowed around him and Lady, respectively. The Cu-Sith sat up and let out a small mewl of confusion as the changes took effect.
Duncan noticed that his own transformation was rapid, but fairly painless. The physical transformation hadn’t hurt at all, while the mental changes had simply opened up his awareness.
That… I can… Brother? A voice echoed In Duncan’s mind.
He froze. Lady? He sent the thought towards his companion hound.
Duncan? He received back.
In a moment, he lay pinned beneath a hound the size of a horse. A long tongue began licking his face as an odd yipping howl sounded from somewhere deep within Lady.
The others, startled by the sudden movement, had backed away, but relaxed when they heard Duncan laughing.
Get off me, giant oaf! He sent, sitting up as she backed off. Her muzzle, wet with saliva, was still close to him, nuzzling and sniffing at him.
Don’t call me that! I’m a good girl! She sent hopefully, seeking affirmation.
Yes, you are. But you mustn’t startle the others, they’ve been through a lot tonight and to see you bounding about must terrify them!
He hugged her muzzle, and she growled softly. Their feelings are their problem. Right now, I want pats, a meal, and sleep. She sent back, sitting back on her haunches. This is amazing! It’s like I can think clearly for the first time! She sniffed at the air, then back towards Duncan.
Can you understand us when we speak? Duncan sent.
I can! She sent, slightly offended. I could understand most of your human speech for years. It always upset me when you ignored my questions!
You asked questions? He sent.
Usually about dinner time or when we could go for a walk. She said. You just never learnt to listen.
Colm had approached warily and knelt next to Duncan. “What’s all this about?” he asked, looking at Lady.
I like him. He smells like Liam. She sent.
Duncan grinned. “She says you smell like Liam.” He whispered. “I can talk to her now!”
“You what?” Colm asked in shock.
“It’s a part of my class.” Duncan explained. “We’re spirit linked now. I’ve chosen a Class. I’m a Disciple of the Order of Nodens.”
Colm’s eyebrows shot up. “Nodens? The God?” He asked.
“No. At least, that’s not how the system explains it. It seems to think that people called him a God wrongly. He was a king of the land’s west of here long ago. A place called Alt Cult. It said he’s the leader of the Tuatha de Danaan.”
Colm’s jaw dropped. “Those are legends! Things my Pa mentioned had happened before St Patrick brought the light of Christ to Ireland!”
To Duncan, the old Master Carpenter looked to be awestruck.
Lady sat patiently, watching the conversation with eyes that spoke of a greater intelligence than any animal should have. Colm looked over at her and saw his inquisitive look was being returned.
“Show me your Statistics.” Colm said, wanting to be sure that this wasn’t the result of some unknown devilry.
Duncan pulled up his statistics, allowing Colm to inspect them as they rested.
As he did, Duncan took the time to assign his available attributes. All four went into agility.
He’d already learnt that the way he fought was through movement, and with Lady now far larger, it stood to reason that he should improve his speed too.
The subsequent pain of assigning attributes too quickly passed. Duncan once more having forgotten that assigning attributes too quickly caused the body to change painfully. He found it intriguing that system allocated points didn’t seem to have the same effect. As Duncan pondered, he could find no obvious reason for the difference.
Attributes are attributes. There seems to be no difference so far as I can tell between those granted by the class and those from available attributes. He supposed he could always ask Colm about it later and see what he thought of the matter.
Laying on the ground, he tried to rest as best he could. Colm was muttering something about Nodens, but Duncan couldn’t quite hear him properly. He looked over his own statistics.
Statistics Tablet of Duncan Baker
Titles:
Spirit Link
(Lady: Cu-Sith, Level 15)
Name:
Duncan Baker
Level:
12
Race:
Human
Class: Disciple of the Order of Nodens
Age:
13
Tribulation Experience: 12 / 1455
Health: 140
Magic: 170
Stamina: 100
Available Attributes: 7
Strength: 10
Agility: 16
Vitality: 14
Intelligence: 19
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 16
Luck: 14
Faith: 10
Will: 17
Skills:
Sword: 4
Animal Husbandry: 28
Manners: 8
Tactics: 3
Baking: 21
Light Armor: 3
Maintenance: 8
Stealth: 12
Chivalry: 2
Shields: 2
Housekeeping: 13
Mathematics: 2
Reading: 4
Athletics: 12
Spears: 1
Riding: 2
Archery: 3
Heavy Armor: 2
Abilities:
Identify: Level 1
Inspired Speech: Level 1
It took Colm a while to read through the statistics, but after some time, he grunted.
“Well, it seems you have a companion for life!” He said. “I know little about the Cu-Sith, but from what I heard they are deadly creatures that live between our world and the spirit world.”
“Does she know much about what she’s become?” Colm asked.
He watched, grinning as the enormous dog shook her head.
“Well, I suppose we’ll need to find out, eventually. For now, we should get moving. The lands held by Sir Matthew de Carmichael are not far. He’s a liegeman of Lord James and oath bound to provide shelter for his men. We can gather there and rest, regroup and build an army to re-take the town from those bastard Comyns.”
Standing tiredly, the men picked up their weapons and began the long walk East.
As they walked, the other men walked in silence, keeping a wary distance from Lady.
Why do they keep looking at me? She sent.
Because you’re a gigantic demon dog!
No I’m not. I’m a Cu-Sith. I was a Border Collie only a few days ago, too. Why would they not trust me? Are we not pack? She asked.
I don’t know. He sent. I’ll ask.
“You don’t seem to trust Lady.” He said, catching the eye of one man.
“It’s not that we don’t trust her to keep us safe, we just don’t trust her not to get hungry and decide to eat us!” He said. “We’ve been talking, and that monster isn’t natural!”
Lady let out a low growl. Her hackles rising. Does he want to challenge? She asked.
No. I think he’s genuinely scared! Duncan replied.
Can you show your statistics vision like we can? He asked.
She paused for a moment, and then a vision appeared before them, causing the men to pause in surprise.
Statistics Tablet of Lady
Titles:
Soul Linked:
Duncan Baker:
Disciple of the Order of Nodens,
Level 12.
Name:
Lady
Level:
15
Race: Cu Sith (Heavenly)
Class: N/A
Age: 7
Tribulation Experience: 1486 / 2842
Health: 250
Magic: 140
Stamina: 100
Attributes:
Strength: 20
Agility: 32
Vitality: 25
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 4
Luck: 8
Faith: 20
Will: 14
Skills:
Athletics: 36
Reading: 2
Manners: 10
Tactics: 10
Stealth: 19
Mathematics: 2
Bite: 22
Herding: 35
Claw Combat: 15
Riding: 7
Tail Blade: 11
Abilities:
Identify: Level 3
Soul Rend Level 1
Regenerate Level 1
Heavenly Roar Level 2
Colm chuckled as he read the statistics aloud. “There you have it! A heavenly Cu Sith!” His laughter filled the woods. “Well, I suppose if any of you lads seek the Lady’s blessing, now would be the time. I’ve never seen a heavenly creature, but you surely will do!” He grinned, and walked up to Lady, giving her a full-armed pat behind her ears. She nuzzled into the gesture and made a whine of gratitude.
The other men, much eased by the confirmation of Lady’s status as a heavenly hound, also approached, lavishing the Cu-Sith with great hugs and rubs of appreciation. It got to where Duncan, feeling the stirrings of jealousy, joined in.
Lady, expecting this, dropped to her haunches, flopped onto her back with her feet in the air. Her tail, slapping the ground in impatient excitement.
Belly rub! She demanded.
“She wants us to rub her belly.” Duncan confirmed the worst when they shot curious glances his way. Are you sure you’re not some petting demon? He asked.
She huffed in reply as the men started in on the massive belly. At one point the scratching became too much, and she sympathetically began kicking her leg, causing Colm to duck back, swearing vociferously.
Laughing, all four of the men ended their petting of the black dog, setting out once more. This time, the atmosphere was far more jovial. Lady slunk along behind for a while. I’m still itchy! She complained.
You’re just being greedy. Duncan chided. I promise I’ll spend some time giving you a scratch when we stop to rest.
Satisfied with the response, Lady trotted along behind Duncan, constantly stopping to sniff or urinate upon a tree of interest.
A few hours later, a scent distracted her from her continued moping. The sun was rising, and birds had begun their morning song.
I’m hungry! She sent. There’s something over there that smells of fear and fur. I want to hunt it!
She waited for Duncan’s assent, and when he gave it, she bounded suddenly off the path and into the trees with barely a hint of her passing. While she was out of sight, Duncan could somehow still feel her presence through the dense foliage. She was about two hundred yards South of the road, slowly belly-crawling towards something.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he sensed her leap forward, startled by the sudden movement that only his mind could detect. Off to his right, he heard a crashing sound and then the squealing of a boar.
In another few moments, the men all stopped to admire Lady’s return. In her jaws, she held a prize boar easily the size of a man. She trotted up to Duncan, her tail swaying dangerously as she passed the others.
She sat, dropping the corpse of the great boar at his feet. “Good girl!” He said, hugging her head. She responded by licking his face with a gory tongue. She kept licking until he was relatively clean once more.
Being deep in the forest now, they felt they had little to fear from Comyn’s men, and so they built a fire, dressed out the Boar and roasted its loins and ribs on the open fire. Fat dripped off the meat, evaporating as it hit the fire to create a wonderful smell.
Lady happily devoured every piece of meat given to her, but only accepted the meat given her by Duncan. The others she would pick up as if it were a game of fetch and return it to the pile of meat.
After eating, they all felt much better, their tiredness seeming to have disappeared. Taking advantage of the dawn, they all continued their journey East.
It was not long before they reached the edge of Douglas's lands, and the men paused, taking stock of the journey ahead. Thick banks of snow marked the limits of the Lord’s domain and the end of easy travels through a summer forest.
Colm looked from face to face, seeing the reluctance in all but Duncan’s eyes. The grim silence gave way to laughter when Lady bounded forward to frolic in the snow. The Cu-Sith seeming not to notice the audience frolicked happily, at the party forged ahead.
Their mood lightened by the playfulness of the Heavenly Hound. The men trudged onward, hugging their arms tight to their chests as they carved a way through the dense snow and into what seemed like a new world.