Chapter Three
Name: Heath
Health: 85/85
H.Reg: 1.7(1.87)/ph
MP:
75/75
M.Reg: 1.2(1.31)/ph
Stamina:
65/65
S.Reg:
1.3(1.43)/ph
Stats
Base
Spirit Bonus
Str
14
Con
16(17)
+1
Dex
19
Agl
22
Wil
25
Int
15
Wsd
12
Per
10
Cha
11
Lck
17
Spirits Contracted
Hearth Spirit (Fire): Name -Fi-ya
Rank: F Level:1
Spirit Abilities
Hearth Spirit:
* 20% increase resistance to fire and cold damage.
* 20% increase to recovery rate while resting.
Magics Available :
Hearth(Novice) - Take the comforts of home with you wherever you may go.
Fire(Novice) - Wield the primordial element of fire.
Spells:
No spells known.
“At least just sitting here activates the recovery bonus.”
“High Wil and Agl, guess that's nice. And Str has already gone up.”
“What the heck does ‘Take the comforts of home with you’ mean? I’d love to ‘Wield the primordial element of fire’, but how the heck am I supposed to do that without fecking spells?”
“Crunch!”
Sweet juice drips down Heath’s chin as he bites into an apple.
“Crunch!”
Heath lets his eyes wander over the status screen, that’s what Pa called it. He had been staring at nearly non-stop since waking up.
At this point he could probably recite the entire page from memory, he just couldn’t help himself. It was what he had been waiting on for as long as he could remember and …
“It doesn’t make any sense! Ahh!”
Heath chunks his half-eaten apple over his shoulder, and drags his hands down his face exasperated.
“If ya done eatin, stop ya staring at your status and grab the other side of this here log.”
Heath looked over to see his father standing beside the lumber pile.
“But, Pa I don’t know what half this stuff means, and its been days since I woke up, but everyone’s so busy with rebuilding none of my questions have been answered.”
His father nods to himself, rubbing at his stubbled chin.
“Ok, how about I answer one question for each log, fair?”
Heath jumps to his feet.
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“Deal!”
Darting to the stack of logs, Heath grabs the thick piece of lumber and heaves it up with both hands straining to lift it past his waist.
While he struggled with the weight, his father was gripping his side one handed with ease.
The two carried the log, the distance between his father's woodshop, which luckily had survived the attack, to their partially reconstructed home.
Coming to the waist high wall of wood, they lifted the log up and set it down on top.
“ Lineup the notches.”, his father reminded him, for the twelve time that day.
The log slid into place.
“Hmm, good.”
His father places his hand over the part of the wall where the new log met the other and begins walking the length of the wall, as he does a soft brown light emits from his palm.
Where his hand passes over the log smooths and connects with the wood below it creating a smooth solid wall of wood.
His father moves to the otherside of the wall to repeat the process looks to Heath,
“Ask your question.”
“Let’s start with that.”, Heath says pointing at what his father was doing, “ How do I do stuff like that? I don’t have any spells.”
“Be odd if ya did. Takes time to learn.”
Heath stares at his father expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When it comes apparent he had no plans to say more, Heath speaks up.
“Pa, I need more than that”
His father sighs, “ Okay, ya’ll need to need to get a feel for the magic in ya. Bet the spirit could help with it, or ya can do what your Ma did and read books.”
Heath looks over to Fi-ya playing with Nadia on the other side of the woodshop. His sister chases the little spirit around giggling.
“He still likes her better. I wonder why he doesn’t just break our bond?”
Heath feels his head get jerked and is suddenly facing his father, guiding him by the chin.
His father sternly says, “ Don’t ever say that. He don’t do it cause he don’t wanna cripple ya. If he left ya now he’d take the soul link ya share.”
“And if ya only have the one you’d be no better than the bondless.”
“ I don’t wanna hear that come from ya mouth again. Ya keen?”
Heath’s eyes widen at mention of the bondless, those that were unable to bond with a spirit.
Some say it was because they were soulless or they were born evil and the spirits could smell it. To be bondless was to be cast out to the fringes of society if you were lucky.
Some places if they discovered a bondless person they'd just kill them.
“Yes Pa. Sorry.”
“It’s ok, just be thankful that spirit there is kind.”
With that the two let the topic drop, moving to pick up another log.
After placing it down, his father goes through the process of melding the wood together.
“Next question.”
“ What are the stats?”
“They tell ya what ya good at. Strength, how strong ya are, Intelligence, how smart ya are, and the like. They also decide ya Health, Mana Points, and Stamina. Recovery too.”
“How do I raise them?”
“That’s a different question. Grab a log.”
Groaning, Heath stomps to pick up another log. His father chuckling as they pick up the log. The second the log touches down, Heath looks to his father, “ Okay. How do I raise my stats?”
“Ya train them. Lift heavy things to raise Strength, Climb trees and run around for Agility and Dexterity. Learn about things and read for Intelligence. Wisdom is something… ya gain over time.”
“And the others?”
Heath’s father was not a man of many words, and speaking so much was hard for him, but he had promised to answer his son’s questions.
A man kept his promise.
Besides he loved Heath and after almost losing him, didn’t mind so much.
The two continued with their questions and answers for the rest of the afternoon, by the end Heath’s father wishing he had sent Heath to help his mother with the injured.
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Farther north, not far enough if you asked someone from Scozeg, and if they had known what was transpiring, was a dungeon that did not appear on any map. Well not most maps, it was on the map of the people inside.
The last thunder toad was defeated with a wet, “SPLAT!”, as it hit the cavern wall. The dead monster slid to the floor, green blood trailing behind it.
Four dark figures stood iin an underground swamp, the lights from glowing crystals on the ceiling reflecting on the green blood that pooled around the carnage of dead toads.
The tallest of the four lowered their hood to reveal her face. An elf, blue veins visible beneath her pale skin, sunken bruised sockets framing her bloodshot green eyes.
“I believe that was the last of those disgusting creatures.”, she said with a haughty sniff.
“Eya! I think ya right. Slimy shits put up a fight.”, a gruff voice coming from a squat man as he delivers a swift kick to one of the downed toads.
The kick causes the toad to explode in a shower of viscera and bloody chunks that splatters over the other two members of their group.
“Aya! Watch it you stupid dwarf!”, a middle-aged human man yells wiping at the green gore that covered his clothes, “ What if that ha--”
“Yecch! Guys it got in my -yuk- mouth!”, the youngest of the group, a human barely past his teens, exclaims through bouts of dry heaving.
“Ah, quit yer belly aching. Just got a wee bit carried away. Ya’ll be fine.”, the dwarf calls, shaking goo from his own boot.
“Quiet, the lot of you. We need to gut these bastards for cores and useful parts.
Just because we are after the dungeon heart does not mean we should leave money to be had lying about.
It’ll also help sell our trekker cover.”, the elf states, taking charge of the group, “ I wanna get to the next level before this demied thing spits out another wa--”.
Just then a pulse of power can be felt throughout the dungeon, as a gust of air rushes past the group.
“Spoke too soon, yer majesty.,” The dwarf gripes, extra helping of sarcasm on yer majesty, as he digs through his cloak pockets.
“Don’t you ever call me that. Get ready.”, venom drips from each syllable as the elf pulls out a small vial of iridescent metallic liquid.
Pulling the cork out, the elf takes a deep breath and drinks the continents of the vial, jerking her head back.
The other three mirror the elf, drinking from their own vials.
“Yuck! Never taste any better.”, the young man says, wiping his mouth.
“No, but the power feels so good.”, the older man practically purrs as tendrils of energy dance between his fingers.
“Stop yer yapping. Let’s get our arses out of here.”, the dwarf grumbles, making for the exit, “ I wanna grab a nap while the monsters pour out of here. We’ve been fighting none-stop for a week.”
“Almost feel bad, don’t you? That poor town will probably get the brunt of it.”, the young human asks weakly.
The other three look at him apathetically, the older man and dwarf with cutting words on their lips are cut off by the elf.
“Feck them. They’re spirit users.”
The young man hangs his head and follows his companions, mumbling to himself, “ Still, they seem nice.”.
With that the four viskonsumirs, spirit eaters, left the dungeon to hide and wait, while the next wave of the dungeon’s defenders swarmed out toward the nearest target. A small frontier town on the edge of civilization, Scozeg.
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While the viskonsumirs bided their time North, just South of Scozeg a different group of four bickered from the debatable comfort of their cart.
“Move over you big ofe! I need room to stretch out my legs.”
“You need room? You’re like four foot nothing, you could fit in my boots for gods’ sake.”
“Four and three-quarters! You prick. I will have you know, quite tall for halflings.”
“Exactly! For halflings. I’m a full grown human, I need far more room.”
“ I swear if you don’t get your over sized -”
“WILL YOU TWO MORONS SHUT UP!”
The sudden yell causing flocks of birds to evacuate their nests in the trees.
The leader of the group whips around, her left blue eye twitching with annoyance.
“I swear it's always the same with you two! I can barely hear my own thoughts.”
“Sorry captain.”, the two mumble in unison.
Rolling her eyes, the young woman turns back to the road ahead. Reaching over, she takes the donkey’s reins back from the blue robed man sitting next to her.
“Thank you, Svan.”
“Of course.”
“Now check the map and see how much longer we got. My arse is sore, I want a hot meal, and an even hotter bath.”
The robed man nods, pulling a folded map from the bag bumping against his hip with every movement of the cart.
The man alternates looking at the map and their surroundings.
Shifting in his seat, the man winces as he says with as much tact as possible, “Captain. I think We’re lost.”
“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
The yell echoes through the forest.