Ivan yawned as he sat down at the same table he had vacated last night. Myrn had followed him drunkenly up to his room, and needed to be returned to her own, but other than that all had gone well.
“Want some breakfast young man?” The Innkeeper's wife called to him across the bar.
“Yes please.” He answered and fished out his coin pouch as she turned to go into the kitchen.
Ivan blinked at the light coming through the open windows and touched his head. He could have sworn he hadn't drunk very much at all last night, but still his head contained a dull ache and a vague out of place sensation.
Davian came down the stairs in the next few moments. He spotted 'Isaac' and grinned, offering a strange gesture with a single raised thumb before heading behind the bar and sticking his head into the kitchen to ask for his own breakfast. Yawning and stretching the Bard came to the table wearing his full gear much as Ivan currently was.
Not that Ivan really had a lot to wear at the moment. He needed proper armor, but didn't dare wear stolen or blood splattered, or worse, corrupted gear he had looted from a corpse of one of his victims. Right now what he wore were decent enough clothes, thick leather boots, the Shroud as a fine leather cloak offering some protection at least, and of course his Knight's Longsword at his belt.
Davian wore much the same, but his clothes were finely cut and appeared to contain many pockets. His cloak was a fine thing of soft cloth within and had a magically repellent material as its exterior. He even wore a silver etched rapier at his belt. Ivan's Basic Appraisal told him that it was a minor enchanted weapon not unlike his Knight's Longsword. That would make it durable and deal some extra damage compared to a mundane blade.
Davian took in Ivan's appearance, and cast his hood over his head.
“We could be quite the mysterious pair it seems.” Davian joked.
Ivan showed the man a half smile.
“You weren't kidding about the sword then.” Ivan stated.
Davian nodded and cast back his hood before taking in the empty common room. It was clean and everything was set in its proper place after all the laughter and dancing last night.
“I made a good deal of money last night. It's not the first time, but it's nights like that which gave me enough to afford dear Sire Yokel Blacksmith's finest work.” Davian said with a listless dryness to his voice. His gaze fell on Ivan, and he raised an eyebrow.
Ivan raised an eyebrow back.
“Can I see it?” Ivan asked plainly.
Davian sighed and stood a moment to free the scabbard and blade from its frog on his belt. He then laid the weapon across the table in front of Ivan.
“Inspect Weapon.” Ivan chanted with his hand over the item. A red tinted scroll with soul black ink appeared above the weapon.
Inspect Object: Subclass: Weapon. Inspection Successful.
Silver Etched Rapier of Swiftness, Thrusting Weapon
Enchantment 1: Swift Silver: This blade has been carved and sealed with magically reinforced silver making it an excellent weapon against creatures who gain strength under the moonlight. Additionally through this enchantment it has gained a property of amplifying the bearer's agility and dexterity by their base attributes.
Enchantment 2: Sharpening I: The Blade is magically sharped and will not lose its edge against non-magical items.
Enchantment 3: Reinforcement I: The Blade is magically reinforced and is more durable than its standard and mundane counterparts.
“Ah yes. You said you were a scribe. Fascinating. It seems so much more useful than Student. Can you inspect just anything like that?” Davian asked.
“More or less if it's within my level or ability. Sometimes I can inspect higher level things by expending more magic to learn about them, but I've really only done that with plants and had any success.” Ivan answered sincerely.
“Not enough mana to throw out on something higher yet then?” Davian asked, leaning forward to touch the magic scroll. The scroll wavered as its illusory form was interrupted, but then its form shifted to face Davian. Davian sat back with a small smile on his face.
Ivan gave Davian's cloak a look and the man willingly held out the garment toward Ivan.
“Inspect Object.” Ivan chanted. The script on the scroll blurred for a moment as it grew taller to contain the new information. Script played out over its surface in the same light eating black ink as before.
Inspect Object: Clothing. Inspection Successful.
Cloak of the Magic Story Teller, Enchanted Item
Enchantment 1: Stage Magic. Produces minor conjured illusions while telling a story, enhancing the tales with lights, sounds, and minor harmless presences.
Enchantment 2: Waterproof. This item will keep off the rain no matter how it pours, and will dry quickly if you decide to swim.
Enchantment 3: Stamina Regeneration I: Nothing keeps a story teller from getting to his next stop, but the endurance of his own feet at times, and this cloak will help you get there.
“I was always fond of the Scribe job for its easy access to magic. I understand it differs from Student mostly by being independent of teachers?” Davian asked.
Ivan nodded.
“It's slower to learn and rank up which is why it's not always the first choice. It also overlaps with Acolyte's ability to make sacred scrolls and copy religious texts.” Ivan replied.
“Ah I see. Join the clergy too early, and all the experience goes to Acolyte instead of toward earning Scribe.” Davian surmised. He yawned and then nodded. “That happens with a great deal of other jobs too does it not?” He asked then.
Ivan gave Davian a look, but the man just smiled. The expression lit up his plain face and made great use of the Bard Job's charisma attribute.
“I suppose.” Ivan answered after a moment. “Farmer and Green Thumb are kind of like that. It's possible to have both, but usually you would need to get Farmer first, and then arrange for whatever spark of magic opens up the Green Thumb job.”
Davian was listening attentively. He honestly seemed eager to hear the common knowledge information. It made Ivan wonder if something was wrong with his head or maybe just where he had come from.
“Is there a benefit to having both? Wouldn't that slow down your progress in either?” Davian asked.
Ivan sat up straight and gave the man another look. He responded with another bright and innocent smile.
“Yes, I suppose. You would have to do twice as much work to advance with the same speed as another with just one of the two jobs, and do it in the ways that support one job or another. If you were a Scribe and an Acolyte for example you might spend a part of your day doing your duty whatever that entailed, even if it's Scribe work, but then return to a library for study and maybe duplicate a non-religious book too.” Ivan answered. “But you would see returns for that work in attributes and perks. 'Dedication is its own reward, and diligence is a blessing upon the world'.”
Davian's smile softened to something compassionate and Ivan immediately realized he had made a partial slip. Ivan cast his eyes down and was unsure of what to do.
“Don't worry Isaac. Though I am from--” The Bard cut off as the roof above them groaned. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then shot his gaze about the empty common room. “I mea--I'm a stranger here.” He said, eyes wary and staring up at the ceiling.
The boards groaned with relief and seemed to settle. Ivan rubbed his eyes and looked at the same spot above Davian that the Bard himself was currently staring at like it was a strange growling dog. The great timber seemed to have moved.
“But I understand how important the Goddess was to the people here. Istan may have been her official capital and she may have claimed no nation or land beyond what the maps say, but no matter where I've been in this wondrous world I have met and known people that loved her both high and low.” Davian said with a smile.
Ivan didn't exactly mind the kind words. They were an ineffective balm for his hurts, but the kindness wasn't exactly unwelcome either. He did however still find the effects of the curse Penelope spoke of to be strange.
“Don't bring it up. It might actually kill him if the curse is addressed straight forward like that. Many of these types of curses react badly to being confronted. Honestly the best way to deal with a curse that nasty is to ignore it. From what I can guess it was put on him from some trans-dimensional Guardian Deity.” Penelope had explained last night only prompting more questions that she answered with information that only gave him yet more questions.
“And you can just tell he's cursed?” Ivan had asked.
“Oh yeah. I have Hexcraft 13. That covers all manner of curses and afflictions known to nearly all of Hell. I have my favorites, but it's nice to have options.” Penelope had told him in casual reply.
She went on to explain in detail that each school of magic typically worked by ascending in numerical order called Grades, gaining a Spell Grade entirely required the Scribe, Student, or Librarian Job and typically turned any Wild Caster job into a Wizard Class of some sort. Of the Spell Grades Ivan had even heard of the highest was Divine 12. Whatever was contained within Hexcraft 13 he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know anything about.
What he did know now was that If Davian was skilled he should have Spell Songs 1, 2, and possibly 3 as the fourth tier Advanced Class of Bard. That was dangerous enough as it was. Though Penelope had told Ivan it was possible for him to have either several spells from, or the entire Grades of 1 and 2, of Sonic Magic. Sonic Magic was an entirely offensive school of magic too as compared to the support laden school of Spell Songs. If he knew Sonic Magic Davian’s appearance as a Bard would be a convenient way to hide a Sonic Wild Caster Job.
If Ivan were stronger, perhaps even with just a single spark for the extra mana, he would be able to confirm Davian's skills with an inspection, but for now that was out of reach. Unless of course Ivan simply got the man to talk about his skills openly.
That however might prove difficult as the conversation had died and an awkward silence descended. It was broken eventually by the banging of the kitchen door as the Innkeeper's wife brought them their food and water fresh from the well.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Aaaannngggghh...” Came an amusing somewhat human noise from the stairs just as the two of them started to eat. The sounds continued along with the uneven progress of the one making the noises as she came down the flight of stairs and into the soft morning light filling the common room through its open curtains.
“Oh dear. Some kind of poor sickly beast is making its way from its room to steal our food I fear.” Davian commented dryly, a small smile on his face that he shared with Ivan.
“Nnnngghhnnnn...” Myrn whined as she saw the food and water.
She slumped, one hand to her head, and stumbled over to the table. She took a chair next to Ivan, pouted, and then put her face into his sleeve continuing to pout and moan as she did.
“Ah yes, there she is. I remember those days. Sort of anyway..” Davian mused, a large smile on his face between bites of food as he observed Myrn's suffering.
“Headache...” Myrn grumbled at Ivan.
“Mmhm.” Ivan responded, his mouth full of eggs and bacon.
“Medicine...” Myrn grumbled into his sleeve, her hand pulling at his sleeve pathetically.
Ivan shook his head.
Myrn groaned into his sleeve for a long moment before pulling herself up part way, just enough to look up at him, and give him her best pout and puppy dog eyes.
Ivan rolled his eyes as he continued chewing.
“I-Isaac please...” Myrn said, covering her close slip with the suggestion that she had perhaps had her own spit caught in her throat.
Ivan looked at his new friend, and her watery, bloodshot, crystal blue eyes that refracted and shone like gemstones. She looked pretty miserable, her hair wasn't quite neat enough, and her clothes were a little rumpled from sleeping in them. In the end he took pity on her and decided to grant her a little mercy.
“Administer Medicine.” Ivan chanted softly, raising a hand in her direction.
Myrn's face wrinkled around an apparent taste in her mouth, but then quickly sighed and laid her head against his arm with a sigh. She sat like that, bent over and leaning against him, graceless and undignified, until some time after one of the Innkeeper's daughters noticed their third member.
Ivan caught the girl's glance with a firm nod and the girl smiled before returning to the kitchen. Ivan and Davian ate then while Myrn rested, or perhaps momentarily fell back into the arms of sleep. She popped right up at the sound of crockery being set on the table before her, and her gemstone eyes seemed to shine like lamps as she saw the pile of food set before her.
She dug in with a will and sighed explosively as she downed her second glass of cool well water.
“Are you better now, dear woodland princess?” Davian asked dryly.
“I'm fantastic now. The only thing better would have happened last night.” She said, with a wide and playful grin for Ivan that held a great deal of warmth and respect behind its teasing manner.
Ivan shook his head at her and she grinned insolently at him.
Davian chuckled.
“Well at least our Thief has some morals. It's always good to have less scoundrels in the group.” Davian said dryly, his gaze focused on Myrn. He raised his eyebrows at her when she finally looked at him.
Myrn's grin broke into a face of mirthful, slightly confused, affront.
Ivan shook his head, but couldn't help the smile that had crept onto his face. Davian had Myrn all turned around, taking advantage of her just now waking mind to first compliment her and then drag her down back into sober reality.
“Hey!” Myrn complained, finally getting it.
Davian and Ivan chuckled.
Myrn pouted and tore into her breakfast with renewed vigor, her cheeks nearly as red as her hair. They all took to eating then for a little while, Ivan and Davian took little time to finish, and each took a turn each to fill their glasses with water from the rough porcelain pitcher.
Slowly other patrons began to come down from their rooms and order breakfast. The quiet room quickly filled with soft murmurs of early morning conversation and the din of many people taking part in meals. The sounds of wagons rolling into town came from the open windows. The scent of food and animals mixed into a thin and familiar malaise. Bird songs changed from the early morning birds to the loud cry of other species and were at times drowned out by the sounds of livestock being herded into town.
“Hey Dav.” Myrn prompted.
Davian gave her a curious look of interest, pulling his attention away from people watching.
“Yes dear?” He answered.
Myrn chuckled softly, but failed to laugh at Davian's shifting expression.
“Are they really not looking for me?” She asked, a single one of her hands under the table gently pulled at Ivan's sleeve getting his attention.
Davian's teasing expression changed to one of seriousness and he shook his head, then took up a smile.
“I know because of what I heard and what happened. I assure you anyone with the same connections as I know enough to know why you did what you did and certainly most approve more than I would. Death is a rather permanent solution to that sort of situation that by its nature allows no forward growth. I think you've known me long enough to know that, but I certainly understand.” Davian swallowed, frowned, and took a small drink of water before continuing.
“Perhaps not actually. Rape...” He said the word softly-- “Even in its attempted form is an abominable act that I have not been victim to. Poisoning and endangering the life of someone who's only thoughts are ever for the betterment of her family and anyone in need of her help is another thing too. I will say no more about it. What is done and is done and you have nothing to worry about.”
Myrn nodded and then sighed, letting go of Ivan's sleeve as she did. She smiled at him, her gaze showing honest appreciation in her dazzling eyes. Ivan offered her his hand to her in a gesture of comfort. She took it for a little while and let out a few breaths that seemed at least as heavy as her thoughts. She squeezed his hand tightly before letting go and then looked to Davian again.
“And the other thing? Did you find anyone who might be interested in coming with us?” She asked.
Davian smiled at first, and Myrn brightened, but then he put on an honest frown.
“Not here at least. I heard a great deal of talk from various parties looking for just what we are, or having what we need. We'll need to move on from Abbotsdale and closer to Dentennek to find them. We've got a Healer at least which is most groups problems right now.” Davian replied, his voice respectful, but not hesitant to address the reality of the situation.
Myrn smiled at Ivan who took a moment to understand that the two of them meant him.
“I uh...” Ivan said hesitantly, unsure of what to say next as his thoughts scattered. “I'm just a Hedge Doctor for now. I'll need to gather and make supplies if I'm going to need to harvest all sorts of things...I'll need...I'll need umm...” Ivan fought down the seething frustrated anger in his soul before it could turn to tears. Memories flashed in his mind as he thought of gathering herbs and plants, Tanya's voice a haunting melody in his mind as she had so often joined him in the garden behind the temple.
Myrn grinned at him and stuck out her tongue insolently.
“I'm a druid, remember? I can help, and I can even make plants grow too if you need more of them. We'll use your gardening and my magic to make a super efficient supply system when we get back to my uncle's place.” She said brightly, her hand finding his this time.
“Will just healing be enough?” Ivan asked, shocked out of his emotional turmoil by Myrn's quick thinking and welcome support.
“Of course not.” Davian said, with a teasing grin on his face. “You'll need to flex that mana pool of yours. Being that you have one anyway means you have Steal. It's basic shadow magic, and the ideal spell for a Thief which is why I believe you would get it at level 1. You'll be our support. You will spam Steal against the monsters we fight so that we get more loot. More loot means more happy people in the party, and better gear to fight the monsters. See where I'm going with this?” Davian asked.
Ivan nodded, stunned slightly, and sat back into the ladder back chair.
“So you'll treat me like a spell caster?” He asked.
“More or less.” Davian answered. “We can't have our Healer be the first to be wounded after all. Maybe if you advance Hedge Doctor to Healer or whatever the Adept Class job is. --Alchemist?” Davian asked, shifting into the question.
“Medicine Man. It's a tribal culture job, but useful. It's one of the few that survived through the ages. Warrior's old path doesn't even really exist any more. That was closer to today's Barbarian anyway, but Hedge Doctor and Medicine Man have stayed around as a staple in many communities and it really hasn't changed at all through the ages. The Elves have many Medicine Men and Women since it's typically a path they all follow even if they're born with a spark that can produce the Healer Job.” Myrn explained, something about her passion for nature and her time with the elves was shining through her words making them vibrant and full of life.
“Their healing is so effective because they not only embrace the wonders of magic, but of the natural alchemy and the chemistry of the living world around us as one. They don’t simply leave a wound to be healed by magic, but use First Aid skills to patch and bind wounds first. It makes even devastating wounds much easier to heal and often times does so without leaving so much as a scar.” She went on excitedly.
Ivan watched her explain, and hardly noticed as his hand's grip closed warmly on Mryn's own under the table. When she finished speaking she finally noticed, and their gazes met. Ivan couldn't look away for a few moments. That was all it took for Myrn to blush deeply, but she too kept eye contact.
“I..I uh...suppose you knew that though I-Isaac.” Myrn mumbled, her cheeks nearly the same color of scarlet flame as her hair. Ivan tore his eyes away from her and pushed away the hot sensation of longing in his chest that hearing Myrn speak that way had produced.
“Don't worry Myrn I would blush too if he stared at me like that. Be easy on her dear Rogue, we have business to be about!” Davian said with an inflated sense of pomp about his words. It helped Ivan push down the familiar iron hot desire to...to umm... He quietly and firmly pushed those thoughts out of his mind before they brought any color to his own cheeks.
“Soon...Soon Ivan...” Penelope cooed, almost startling him as he yet to sense her at all that morning.
Her laugh wasn't mocking or malevolent. It was a gentle, sultry, and sensuous thing that tickled the insides of his ears and ran tiny chills from the back of his neck all the way down his spine. And for just a single terrible moment Penelope did something that let him sense her raw and unfettered desire for him. The terrible possessive and sadistic hunger of the demon made him break out and chills and instantly understand that his mind and heart was free entirely by her forbearance. He remembered the details of his past inspection of her. Penelope's true being could crush him with ease, but more so could rule his mind and will by the strength of her emotional projections acting like a lever upon his weakened Insight attribute.
In truth she wouldn't need to raise a hand or summon any magic to crush his will were she here in the flesh. Ivan wasn't sure if any man could simply stand in her presence and not obey when she crooked her finger. As much as it terrified part of him though he couldn't help but smile a little at the thought. Actually it made part of him quite giddy. A mad little rush of exhilaration shot through his limbs and up somewhere into the back of his head, filling it with all sorts of strange sensations.
He felt Penelope shift and start to grin where she sat within the Shroud. Her fingers stroked the dirt of Tanya's grave, keeping it neat and tidy.
It had only been a few breaths of time since he pushed down the thoughts of what he might do to Myrn, but now the idea suddenly seemed more fun. Myrn was tall, long limbed, and of a sturdy build. Ivan wanted to feel the strength of her limbs pulling against him as he kissed her neck and caressed her body. He wanted to see how she would move and squirm when her senses were overwhelmed with pleasure and desire. He wanted to hear her breathing brought to desperate panting, and he wanted to hear her beg for more. He held her gaze and felt some crazed sort of sadistic glee as some part of her insight and her perception as a ranger stole a little of truth from his hidden feelings.
He turned away acting abashed as a young man so inexperienced as Ivan would at what those feelings revealed, but saw the effect his own surge of lust had on her. Still part of his mind was agape at what he was doing and feeling, and still another part of his mind now filled with a strange giddy energy was glad and excited. He felt the invisible string tether sensation he felt upon Myrn tighten and grow stronger. It granted him some level of understanding of what she was feeling as though it were some Insight Skill or powerful perception spell.
Her heart was beating faster than it should be at rest. There was a little sweat breaking out all over her body, and if Ivan could just get this foolish twice cursed Bard out of the way he could–
“We should get moving then shouldn't we?” Ivan said, interrupting the flow of thoughts in his head with action.
As he stood his heart rate climbed and a nervous little panic took hold in the back of his mind. Not fear of anything around him, but it was like his conscious mind had pulled itself up out of some darkness within his mind. Like a child who had pulled itself up into a tree to get away from dogs in the dark. His pain, despair, and anger were down there, joined now by this new hunger. Each was beckoning, calling, and making their demands known to him as they snapped at his heels. If they took hold of him he feared he might act as they wanted.
His thoughts and emotions spun even as his new friends finished what little there was of meals or drink and gathered their things up following his lead.
“Isaac are you alright?” Davian asked, his face painted in concern.
It took a moment for Ivan to realize the man was using his false name. Ivan nodded though and noticed the man's startled expression as Ivan's cloak hood came alive and swathed him in its folds.
“Well then!” Davian said, glancing down at Ivan's accidental display of the Shroud's most minor power. “I see I'm not the only one with a fancy for magic cloaks. You'll have to show me what that one can do.” Davian laughed.
Ivan played off the slip up and was quickly caught up by Myrn who took his arm in hands made a little more shy than they had been.
“I've still got a few things upstairs. Wait for me outside?” She asked, looking first at Ivan and then to Davian.
“Of course.” They both said at once and Myrn turned to jog back upstairs.
An awkward moment of silence passed before they moved toward the Inn's front exit and the serving counter there.
“Are you sure you're alright?” Davian asked.
Ivan meant to give the man a serious look, but something in his head suggested another route. It wasn't Penelope, though she was grinning, and holding her cheeks with both hands as she laid out on the shadowy ground within the Shroud. Ivan's senses went again to the invisible threads he sensed tethering those around him making them easier to convince and...and control. He realized with sudden clarity that was what he had been feeling all along.
“Yes Ivan.” Penelope whispered. “You're feeling it aren't you? Don't overthink it, or over do your next action. Just do what comes naturally. Let your instincts guide you.”
Ivan's expression softened into something of the hidden truth. He showed a face filled with pain and recent loss. Davian reacted immediately with empathetic expression, his Insight picking up on what Ivan instinctually revealed from behind his control.
“I've lost family and friends Davian. It's been hard to make new ones or even really feel safe enough to try. It feels like you and Myrn are the best people I've met in a long time. It's a little difficult for me to embrace that. I've...I've been through a lot.” Ivan said, hardly believing his own skill in acting. His voice was sober, and heavy; it carried all the pain and hurts he felt, but used them like well known tools to lever Davian's emotions. The unseen threads connecting Ivan to the man grew in number, and grew thicker.
“I can certainly believe that with what's been going on. Don't worry friend. As you said you're with good people now, and we'll meet more as we go along. There's brighter days ahead. They won't wash out or remove the bad days you've had before, but the only way to move forward is to take those first steps. I can be an ear if you ever need someone to listen.” Davian said, his voice perfectly conveying a Bard's charisma and the tentative, but heartfelt feelings of a new friend.
“I...I would appreciate that, but later.” Ivan answered, again his voice sober and subdued, his eyes on the people around them eating breakfast and enjoying light conversation.
Davian nodded.
“Right. That's fine as long as you know you're not alone. You're with friends now, and Myrn as much as I, will help you in what ways we can. So let's focus on what's to come ahead, eh?” Davian asked, setting his shoulders and putting on a smile.
Ivan did his best to mimic the expression, and to make it really seem like he was trying. Myrn came running back down the stairs, and after a brief eye contact with Davian Ivan redoubled his apparent efforts to hide his sullen emotions. Davian grinned at him shaking his head, but his smile filled with a gentle and understanding sort of mirth.
“I'm ready!” Myrn announced with a smile.
The Innkeeper and his wife and daughters waved them off as they went to the door.