I remember standing with my father on the city tower, one day. I admired the lands around the city with my innocent six-year-old eyes.
"Dad, how can you tell if you're doing a good job?" I asked him.
He stared at me, and then scanned the horizon as he usually did. "Do you see an enemy army besieging us?" He asked.
"No."
"A monster horde laying waste to all our society built?" He continued in the same calm voice.
"No, dad!" I giggled, nervous.
"Are our farms and city on fire?"
"Of course not!" I protested.
"Then, the scouts did their job very, very well. Listen, son. There are more threats out there than you can count on your little fingers. If we don't find them and flag them for extermination, all we've built may come to an end."
Now, twenty years later, I stand on the same tower, looking at the same land. My father, may the Gods have his soul, left me his Class, his enchanted bow, and his most treasured secret.
But more important than that, he left me his duty.
Have you ever wondered how those little slips of paper on the Guild corkboard appear? The ones with quests telling people a Goblin village exists in the forest? Or that Wargs are threatening farms? It's because someone went out there to find them. To find the threat before it can grow and ruin our precious civilization.
I am a Scout by trade, and I work for the Adventurer's Guild.
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MDW presents, "Guild Scout, a GritRPG".
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Ten years later.
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I stood before the grave, sobbing uncontrollably. Several Guild employees and Adventurers stood around the grave as the coffin went seven feet under the ground. The mood was somber and respectful.
My eyes drifted to the sky. Above the planetary ring, the big red moon, its surface as smooth as polished metal, and the Goddess’ Ring nestled between the two Suns seemed to mock me from afar. Why would the Gods punish me like that? It was so unfair.
A bandit ambush, they said. My heart refused to believe. If a bandit group could get the jump on my father, they might as well infiltrate the Duke’s castle in the middle of the city.
My father was above level 100. Worse, as a Scout, he could spot a rabbit hiding from a mile away. He could shoot an arrow through a wedding ring blindfolded.
But whatever the reason or whoever was the perpetrator, my father was dead. The proof was right here, in my hand. I held his magical bow staff, unstrung, against my chest, staring at the System prompt.
> > Would you like to bind Scout’s Oath (heirloom weapon) to your soul?
This should be a joyous moment. My first System prompt. I should It meant I could select a Class and start gaining levels. Alas, the occasion was anything but.
The enchanted bow was without a soul bond. My father was dead regardless of what was inside the closed casket. The weapon was useless to anyone but me. Stealing a heirloom was not something done lightly, that’s why the murderers left it behind. I suspected that the real reason was that they wanted to officially announce that they killed my father.
A woman with golden hair and the fairest features in the realm approached me. People parted to make way for the Guild Master.
“George, my condolences,” she said, her voice musical as always.
As I stared at the elf’s empathetic face, all I could wonder was, how many has she buried? How could se remain this calm before the tragedy? Did she have a shred of empathy? I noticed I was getting angry at her and she hadn’t done anything wrong. I forced the scowl out of my lips and dipped my head to hide my shame.
“Thank you, Guild Master,” I stuttered my reply.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
She inhaled a deep breath at my detached reply. Before this day, she’d always been Aunty Alice to me. A hand landed on my shoulder and then moved to push my chin up. As our eyes met, she pulled me into a tight hug. For someone as delicate-looking as Guild Master Alice, she was quite strong.
My body trembled. I felt an urge to bury my face on her shoulder, bawl my brains out. But I held back. I had to be strong. The runes carved on the varnished wood of the bow staff shone, a singular pulse of energy running up and down from my hands.
The System beckoned. A blinking dot appeared at the corner of my vision, calling me to action.
“It’s okay to feel the way you are,” Alice whispered. Her hands climbed up my back and cupped my cheeks. “It’s okay to do what you want to, too. Even if it is nothing.”
I shook my head, feeling the soft skin of her palms on my cheeks. The warmth of her hands.
“No. This is something I must do.”
No more hesitation. I felt ready to embrace my destiny.
I accepted the prompt. The messages flooded my sight.
> Scout’s Oath (heirloom) is now soul-bonded to you.
>
> Skipping Class selection.
>
> Binding to the heirloom weapon set your Class to Soul Scout (rare).
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> You gained the Skill, Scouting. You gain your next Class skill at level 40.
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> Rank I: Reduce terrain penalties to movement by 10% per Skill level.
>
> You gained ten points to each Attribute.
>
> […]
I ignored the remaining notifications and minimized the window to look at it later. A tingle moved across my whole body as the System granted me the initial Attributes.
All of that didn’t matter. My heart felt elated. I knew I had made my father proud by taking the fist step after him. I was a Scout, just like him now.
As I came back to my senses, I heard the Adventurers and Guild staff cheering around me. It took me more than I wished to realize they were cheering at me. The moment a youth gained his Class should be a joyous one but I had to balance the excitement with my grief.
Dealing with all that was overwhelming. I felt insulted that people were cheering before even the first shovel of dirt had covered my father’s coffin.
But our world, Koiphyvv, was a ruthless one. Monsters, rival nations and organizations, evil villains, and others hid just around the corner. Our people were stalwart and brave. Dying was easy. One only needed to be careless.
Despite all that, I couldn’t find inside me to reply to their cheers with a smile. The pain was too strong, the grief, overwhelming. My little act of defiance when I accepted the weapon and unlocked my Class.
I was a Scout, a level 1 Scout. The Soul part would remain hidden. Many classes had variations and specializations but these were confidential information.
Alice laced her arm around the crook of my elbow. With a commanding gaze, she quieted the crowd. Another silent glance at the grave keepers signaled to them that they should finish burying my father.
The bow staff in my left hand felt right. The soul-bonded weapon now felt like a fifth limb, an extension of my body. My eyes wandered from the grave to the city tower, poking up toward the planetary ring.
I remembered that day ten years ago as if it were yesterday. My father’s speech about a Scout’s duty filled me with purpose.
Someone had to go out there and reveal the threats poised to cause harm to the people. Without a Scout, the city was blind. My father wasn’t the only Scout but he was the best.
Now, I needed to do the job on his stead. I had to prove my worth.
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The funeral over, Alice didn’t leave my side. She didn’t let go of my arm, either. Along with the rest of the Guild employees and some mournful Adventurers, she led me down the familiar path to the Guild Hall.
I didn’t say a word and nobody spoke to me. I still had to sort the things in my head. The System notifications awaited my acknowledgement. With nothing better to do, I opened them.
> You gained ten points to each Attribute. You have the Strength, Dexterity, Endurance, Intelligence, Wisdom, Clarity, and Charisma Attributes.
>
> You have 50% Attribute Efficiency to allocate.
>
> You gain 15 Attribute Points per level. As a human, there’s no fixed Attribute Point spread.
>
> You have the Health resource. Spend Health to recover from wounds. Automatically spend Health to mitigate mortal wounds.
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> You have the Mana resource. Spend Mana to enact supernatural effects upon the world.
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> You have the Stamina resource. Spend Stamina to keep exhaustion at bay and execute superhuman feats of endurance, strength, and agility.
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> Your first Sub-Class is at level 20. You gain a Sub-Class every 50th level afterward.
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> Your first Perk is at level 5. You gain a Perk every 10th level afterward.
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> You gained the Trait, Perceptive. Effects of Attributes on Perception increased by 50%.
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> You gained the Trait, Scout’s Duty. For every twenty levels of creatures killed based on intelligence you gathered, you gain 1 Attribute point randomly assigned to Dexterity, Endurance, or Wisdom. Your own kills do not count toward this Trait. This is a Parallel Progression.
Each Attribute point increased that aspect of oneself by 1%, additively. The initial ten points to each Attribute made me 10% better in all aspects. It wasn’t big but the Awakened, people with Classes, were straight-out better than their mundane peers. Around eighty percent of the population were Awakened, while the others were pejoratively called Mundanes.
But the effects were very obvious. The Perceptive Trait sharpened my vision and hearing, and my sense of smell. I could gauge distances better, see further and in more detail. I could tell where each person was by the sounds of footsteps around me. And my feet found firm purchase on the street cobblestones because of my Class Skill.
Then my eyes stopped at the last line and I stopped to gawk. A Parallel Progression. This was so huge my mind was swimming. Parallel Progressions were rare, almost unheard of and never confirmed by their holders. It was a way to earn progression outside of the leveling system. Most people, the vast majority of them, was stuck with whatever points their classes gave them. They couldn’t grow any further unless they earned enough Experience Points, or Exp for short, to reach the next level. The ordinary people were capped. But those with a Parallel Progression could keep growing without earning Experience. They were limitless. They were stronger than what their levels suggested.
Did my father also have this PP? If so, no way bandits would’ve killed him. No. My father was murdered.
“George, are you okay?” Alice said as she tugged on my arm.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just got my Class after I bound with Scout’s Oath,” I shook the enchanted wooden stick in my hand.
“Oh,” she reacted with way less surprise than what I expected.
“Do you know the stats on this weapon?” I asked.
The elf winked at me. “Some. The rest should remain a secret between you and your father.”
The mischief in her voice told me everything I needed to know.
“Come, let’s go to the Guild Hall,” Alice said as she urged me to catch up with the returning Adventurers. “Let’s discuss the terms of your employment.”
The walk allowed me to process what happened. My grief would last for days but I now had a Class, a purpose. I was a Scout and the safety of this city fell on my shoulders. My task was to go out into the wilderness, find threats, report them to the Guild, and reap the free Attribute points from having others kill what I scouted.