Long. Too long. Far too long.

Bereft of luxury, color, or even the contemptible dreadful chill and darkness of a common dungeon, the chambers he had been afforded by the band of knights was, in a word, bland. Gray stone was all the dim torchlight revealed beyond the brown of the table and chairs at the room's center, where he found himself firmly seated. A boring cell, every second spent there gnawed at the edges of his mind as anticipation built, fell away, then built again.

Certainly, it lacked the black iron bars common in other prisons, and did, in truth, have some small amount of natural light peeking in from a shallow opening high up in the far corner. It possessed an almost homey feeling to it, warm and welcoming despite its barren and lackluster nature. As far as cells were concerned, this one was worthy of a knight.

But, in the end, a cell was a cell. And Alden had spent far too long in this particular cell for his liking.

Far, far too long.

He had, on more than one occasion, half a mind to rise up from his spot and bust the door down, or perhaps the wall, and relieve himself of this maddening predicament, the very image of his figure waltzing down the halls and out the Duke’s manor seared into his mind. It was not, however, a struggle to remain still, to dismiss the thoughts as wishful thinking as soon as they appeared. The knights that had apprehended him were too strong to face, after all.

Still, the thought had come again just as the door opened.

The man that entered was not a knight, or at least not among those who had detained him. Dressed in a fine cut suit of black and yellow, the man bore a thin mustache and thin eyebrows, his hair as black as night with eyes to match. He regarded Alden for a second, cool eyes of coal absorbing Alden’s image, then shut the door behind him, leaving the two alone.

The man sat across from him at the table, placing his hands delicately on top, just by the edge, as if to say Alden had nothing to fear. Alden knew better.

Unknown

Age: 37

Health: 2500/2500

Mana: 460/460

Stats

Strength: 410

Intelligence: 90

Wisdom: 72

Dexterity: 202

Agility: 450

Endurance: 370

Luck: 46

Charisma: 50

“What is your name?” the man asked. His voice was chilling, devoid of humor and filled with a mixture of apathy and contempt.

“Alden,” he replied.

The man lifted his hands from the table and put them together, fingers interlocking loosely. “Why are you in Coalben?”

“Are you not going to tell me who you are?” Alden asked. “Or why I’m here?”

The man shut his eyes and sighed wearily. “I am Wardric, in service to the Duke Harhold Baerncaster as his majordomo. I oversee the entirety of my Lord’s holdings in Coalben, which just so happens to include dealing with potential criminals.”

“I do hope that was not intended to refer to me,” Alden replied. “I have official papers from Commander Dhatri stating my purpose here, which, if it must be stated, is to search for a band of raiders terrorizing the Imperial Roadway. I apologize for not presenting myself to you personally, if that is the issue. However, your men did not seem to have any intention of cooperating with our search, despite its importance.”

Wardric gave an annoyed look, then eased, settling back into his chair, hands falling back to the table. “It is good that they did not,” he said. “They passed word of your report. Alden, you said your name was?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“In service to Baroness Sylvana Titemore, correct? And just recently promoted to knighthood?”

“Yes,” he said again.

An amused grin flashed across Wardric’s face, then was gone.

“An impressive thing, to become a knight with only one hand. Ah, but my eyes must deceive me, sir, as it does appear that you have two hands.”

Alden’s breath caught painfully in his throat. I’m a damned fool, he thought.

“Ah,” Wardric continued, “but perhaps I have merely miscounted. I see that you do, in fact, still have your right hand, that’s one, and then, on the other side, is that a stump I see? No, no this cannot be right, I see yet another hand. That makes two, then, does it not, Alden?”

“Enough,” he said, finding his voice. Wardric narrowed his eyes, but remained silent.

Not once had the thought that something bad could come from regaining his arm crossed his mind. Not once had he spared a moment to wonder what others would think, what they would do. His men had not made a fuss, as much as he’d expected they would, excepting the twins. And even then it had only been Elric asking how it had been done; a mage’s interest in what was considered impossible, nothing more.

Now he was a presumed criminal and was, according to the facts, caught red handed.

Alden breathed deep, eyes closed as he steadied himself. He opened them, met Wardric’s gaze. “What of the men we were chasing? A group of soldiers openly entered the city a short time ago. I don’t imagine they were your men?”

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Wardric leaned forward, hands interlocking once more, and his eyes narrowed into a steely, piercing gaze. “Your men will be apprehended, and then they will be interrogated as to your purpose here. After that they will all be tried, either as common criminals or as deserters. You, on the other hand, will be tried immediately, and no doubt summarily executed.”

“What if I have proof that I am who I say I am?”

“Proof? What proof could you possibly offer?”

“Magic will be my proof. Surely that is in your reports? I am not merely a knight, but a skilled mage as well. A prodigy, even. I can regenerate lost limbs, hence now having both again. If you were to find a suitable patient I could do the same for them and prove myself.”

With a loud crack Wardric smacked his hand against the table as he stood, sending up a spray of splinters.

“A miracle worker, then?” he said, voice suddenly loud, laden with unbridled anger. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“No,” Alden said, fear springing up within. “But I am different from other mages. Better. I can prove it. And why risk it, when I am the knight of Baroness Sylvana?”

Wardric sneered, a disgusted look overtaking his features. “What does it matter if you are some dumb whore’s knight?”

Stunned to silence, Alden stammered, then replied slowly. “She is a baroness, sir,” he said.

“And I serve a duke. A baroness is no more than a wench by comparison. It is courtesy enough my lord allows Sylvana to prance about in a mockery of nobility, but to hold off on killing a criminal out of some improbable possibility that he may be one of her knights? A farcical suggestion.”

Wardric stood, his body calm, graceful. His face, however, was anything but, with deep lines of rage etched across his face. He seemed suddenly larger than before, towering over Alden and the table like some sort of inhuman giant. And yet, at the same time, as Alden himself stood, the legs of his chair squeaking against the stone floor, the man’s stature was far more diminutive than Alden had realized. A head shorter than himself, at the least.

The man’s shortness provided Alden a, perhaps undue, surge of confidence. “You say I am to be put to trial. How am I to defend myself, then, if you would dismiss my offered evidence?”

Wardric sighed. “Would you prefer trial by combat?”

The very notion sent his stomach churning unpleasantly, sickeningly. The idea had not escaped him; he had merely tossed the idea aside, considering the near impossibility.

Yet it seemed his only option.

“If I must,” he said.

Trial By Combat

Defeat your opponent and survive the Trial By Combat

Tier 1 Requirements: Defeat your opponent.

Reward: 5,000xp, 10 bonus points to Strength, the Sword of Knightly Perseverance.

Failure: Death.

Tier 2 Requirements: Opt to fight multiple opponents and win.

Reward: 20,000xp, 40 bonus points to Strength, the Sword of Knightly Perseverance, creation of the Renown statistic.

Wardric nodded, a sly grin appearing across his face. “That can be arranged, then.”

The door shut smoothly behind the man as he left, and Alden felt his knees buckle as the strength left them. He caught himself on the table, vision dark and blurry as he fought to stay conscious.

When his senses returned he found himself sat once more in the hard wood chair, covered in cold sweat and a stream of warm, wet vomit that ran down his front. Closing his fingers into fists, Alden attempted to squeeze them, but could not. Strength had left him entirely.

If only it had been sickness that plagued him, he thought. Or poison. He could understand them, fight against them with magic. What magic was there for fear?

Certainly there would be something if he searched for it. He had the Book, after all.

If only he could use it for quests.

Failure

The Book of Complete Knowledge cannot be used to directly resolve quests.

Muttering a curse, Alden slumped in his chair, the screen fading from view. It was not unexpected; he had tried to use the Book before to find the raiders, only to be met with the same screen. He had decided to save his uses then, opting to wait until they knew more.

There was little choice now. He could use it now or die, perhaps die even despite using it. Just the once, he decided, save his last usage for after the trial. An overly optimistic decision, but there was nothing to be done. There was only so much time, and he could only read so quickly.

He had mulled over the topic of his second usage for days after receiving the Book, cataloging all the possibilities in his mind, ranking them. Different fighting styles, economics, farming, training, tactics, strategy, more ideas than he could keep track of. One idea bubbled to the top every time.

Magic.

Screen after screen, Alden poured over the different topics regarding the fantastical power, absorbing as much as he could.

Through research and study Intelligence has grown.

Reward: 1 bonus point to Intelligence.

Through research and study Intelligence has grown.

Reward: 1 bonus point to Intelligence.

Alden Lyons

Age: 24

Health: 720/720

Mana: 465/465

Level: 9

EXP: 23,630/25,600

Money (Banked): 4045 impera

Money (Available): 191 impera

Rank: Knight

Titles

Knight Slayer (+15 to Strength)

Stats

Strength: 74

Intelligence: 44

Wisdom: 57

Dexterity: 40

Agility: 46

Endurance: 45

Luck: 23

Charisma: 71

Skills

Diagnosis Magic Rank C

Healing Magic Rank B

Observation Rank F

Elemental Magic Rank B

Magic Control Rank B

Swordsmanship Rank B

Horsemanship Rank C

Shieldmanship Rank D

Spearmanship Rank B

Teaching Rank D

Body Reconfigurement Rank C

Internal Mana Control Rank C

Body Arts Cultivation Rank F

Soul Arts Cultivation Rank F

Tracking Rank C

Archery Rank B

Aptitudes

None

Special Abilities

All-Maker

Leadership Lv 2

Extreme Skill Development