Hero

Owin

Deficient Wizard

Nimble Hog Hero Company

Level: 1

Strength: 216

Constitution: 140

Dexterity: 55*

Intelligence: 155

Wisdom: 24

Charisma: 60

Two weeks had passed since Owin had returned from his escort mission with Ernie and Katalin. He already missed them, but they were busy with work. Ernie had said he would reach out when Owin could visit, if Althowin decided to let him visit.

Owin stood in the doorway to the courtyard, keeping a safe distance from the sparring match that had already scorched the metal walls. Chorsay stood just behind Owin, watching from his own safe distance, though Owin was sure the old man could stand right in the center and not take a single point of damage.

Myrsvai leaned against the wall near Owin. The magus seemed entirely calm as he watched the incredible duel taking place. It seemed to Owin that Myrsvai should be exhausted, or at least expending mana to keep the fight going, though Owin admittedly didn’t understand how summoning worked.

Suta, the abyssal familiar leapt back from his opponent with his hands up, ready to fight. They had already been at it for a half hour. At level 48, the Suta was stronger than Owin, and as Myrsvai’s familiar, they had the exact same abilities, even if Suta refused to use spells.

Across from Suta was a massive demon, even taller than Chorsay. Its red skin shone brightly in the sunlight. Two huge horns curved from its head, with three more smaller horns going across the center of its bald head.

Myrsvai had summoned Gavvuntar without explanation, and the huge demon arrived through a portal to the Abyss, ready to fight. The brawler demon knew nothing but fighting, according to Chorsay, though Owin didn’t know anything about the different types of demons.

Gavvuntar only wore metal briefs and metal gauntlets. His body was covered in bruises, scars, and even some fresh wounds that he had when he crawled out of the Abyss. When he grinned, he showed a smile of chipped and missing teeth.

The familiar dashed forward, causing Gavvuntar to adjust his stance. The demon’s hooves clicked on the concrete ground as he tried to intercept Suta. The little familiar slipped right past Gavvuntar’s strike and hit the demon in the knee.

“Brawlers live for the fight,” Chorsay said, narrating as he had been.

If Owin had been hit like that from Suta, he would have been launched, or he would have at least collapsed in pain from the strike. Instead of falling, Gavvuntar kicked with the same leg, even as Suta’s strike tore the demon’s pants. His hoof hit Suta in the chest, sending the familiar back a few feet.

Before Suta could land and recover, Gavvuntar beat his wings and sent himself forward, throwing a flurry of punches. Suta weathered some, dodged a few, and eventually slipped all the way past to land his own strike on the demon’s face.

The sparring match went back and forth, always resulting in a bout of trading blows. Both Suta and Gavvuntar bled, but neither seemed to care. Myrsvai watched every little movement. His eyes flitted about, catching every movement by both participants.

At first, Mrysvai had promised to go to the Ocean with Owin and expected to go the next day.

Suta refused.

“Practice,” Suta had said.

Myrsvai had insisted he didn’t need practice, though Owin wasn’t sure about that. The magus hadn’t been in a dungeon recently, and Owin had yet to see him fight. If they were going to dive into the Ocean together, Owin wanted to know how Myrsvai would fight.

Unfortunately, Chorsay had insisted that Owin let’s Myrsvai do what he wished. No practicing or sparring.

“He will be fine,” Chorsay had said in private.

“You need to use spells, Suta,” Myrsvai said as Suta took another solid hit to the face.

The familiar bounced off the concrete and skidded on his knees.

“Do you need health?” Myrsvai asked.

Suta shook his head. The familiar remained on his knees.

“Spells, Suta.”

Suta shook his head again.

“The bug fights with honor,” Gavvuntar said.

“Don’t,” Myrsvai said quickly.

Gavvuntar glanced at Myrsvai, then nodded. “Come, Suta.”

“If you’re going to fight like this, use spells. There’s no reason you can’t use Dread Bind to slow enemies or Summon Weapon to form an abyssal sword.”

Suta jumped to his feet and formed fists. He bounced back and forth, dripping a slow stream of blood onto the ground.

“He’s right,” Chorsay said. “You are giving up half your power by refusing to use Myr’s magic.”

It was difficult to read Suta’s expressions because of his insect face, but his disappointment was clear to Owin as the familiar avoided eye contact. Usually Suta was intense, staying right in people’s faces.

“Go again if you’re ready,” Myrsvai said.

Suta walked to the other side of the courtyard, squaring up to Gavvuntar.

“Use at least one spell.”

Suta nodded.

“Come on,” Chorsay said, closing the door to the courtyard. “We will give them some privacy.” The old man guided Owin back inside the mess, closing the door behind them.

“Suta isn’t going to use a spell, is he?”

“Myrsvai has been trying to reason with him for years. When Myrsvai was attacked, something happened to Suta.” Chorsay strode right through the mess and into the lobby.

Potilia didn’t flinch at all as they passed. She remained reading some new book, not paying them any attention. Owin wondered if she actually did any work or if she just sat in the lobby and read every day.

“Will they be okay in the dungeon?” Owin asked.

Chorsay scratched his jaw and stalled for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned on the railing, which creaked under his weight. “They are a complicated pair. I personally sought Myrsvai and recruited him many years ago. He has more potential than anyone else.” He paused, looking back at Owin. “Except, perhaps, you.”

“But he doesn’t fight.”

“He will when he needs to. Suta will keep Myrsvai safe. All you will need to worry about is winning your own fights and doing what you already know how to do. Use what Artvian, Ernie, and Katalin have taught you and get a shard. Easy as that for you. Okay?”

Owin nodded.

“You will get stronger. A shard will provide you with that boost to make even Void Nexus hesitate before confronting you.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“What does it feel like having one shard?”

“One?” Chorsay raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I have one shard?”

“When Taralim came to get me, he insulted you. He said you were old and only had one shard.” Owin tried to remember everything about that encounter, but it had been so quick and chaotic that only bits remained in his mind.

“Taralim’s mind is lacking. All Shard Heroes can see who has shards and how many they have. He simply could have checked before attacking us.” Two silver gems hummed as they appeared over Chorsay’s right shoulder. “I stopped after my second shard. I only activated one in that moment. If Taralim activated his second, I would have needed to activate mine to match his power. If we had both used two, there would be nothing left of my beautiful headquarters.”

“You can see a list of every hero?”

“With a shard, yes.”

“How many with seven?”

Chorsay smiled softly. “Two. There is much to be said about them both. Now is not that time. Do you remember the Unity Force soldier who helped you?” Chorsay asked. He continued up the stairs toward his office.

Miya yawned and stretched as she walked around the corner from the personal quarters. It was nearly midday and she had just awoken, which wasn’t that much of a surprise. She was up late working every single night.

Owin had visited Miya in the basement a few times over the last two weeks where they sat quietly and burned things.

The alchemist rubbed her eyes, then produced her goggles from somewhere and put them right over her red eyes. “Morning, chief. Morning, wizard.”

“Good morning, Miya. Check with Po on your way downstairs,” Chorsay said.

Owin smiled at Miya, who yawned again.

“Owin,” Chorsay said as he sat at his desk.

Owin hurried down the hall and sat across from Chorsay. The giant leaned on his desk, taking a second to glance at the Winged Sword of the Swift Behemoth.

“Vondaire joined the Nimble Hogs this morning,” Chorsay said.

“Vondaire?” Owin thought about the odd man that kept appearing. “I thought he was part of the Unity Force.”

“His contract ended.”

“Okay.”

Chorsay scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “I thought you might be upset.”

“He didn’t join Void Nexus.”

Chorsay smiled. “He didn’t join Void Nexus. You are right, Owin. Don’t be surprised when you see him around. If you see him around.”

“Umbra,” Owin said.

Chorsay nodded slowly. “When are you and Myr leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. I’ll leave my hammer here and just bring the wands and knife.”

“You can leave it in my office if you’re worried.” Chorsay wrapped his hand around the grip of the winged blade. “A single knife isn’t going to be enough for you. Is it the lich bone?”

Owin pulled it from his belt. The white knife shone even in the dim room.

“What will you do when you fight Graliel?” Chorsay asked.

“I thought Suta would do it.”

“Hm.” Chorsay held up a finger and dug through some containers behind his desk. His office was anything but clean. Most of the clutter came from the incredible amount of books overflowing from the shelves into piles on the floor. The old man pulled out a sheathed knife, about the same length as the lich bone. He pulled it from the sheath and held the straight, polished blade in the faint sunlight. “It’s nothing special.”

Owin took the knife and moved it around. It was lighter than his old knives, but not nearly as light as the lich bone.

Steel Knife

Apprentice Item

“It barely has any information,” Owin said.

“It’s just a plain knife. Use it as you wish. If you lose it or break it, I won’t mind.”

Owin placed the knife back on the table. “Thanks, but I’ll use my own weapons.”

“That’s fine.” Chorsay sat back, noticed a book in the pile beside his chair, and picked it up. He flipped through a few pages before setting it on his desk. “Do you know how I met Artivan?”

Owin shook his head.

“Before I had decided to retire, I would frequent the Great Forest Inn over in Izylia. Artivan had moved all over Verdantallis after he retired from the dungeons, trying to find a job to sustain himself. He struggled for years before becoming a bartender. That was it. The amazing man was cleaning mugs and serving drinks. All the patrons loved him, of course. He could talk to anyone about anything.

“I had been working through the first few floors of the Great Forest, over and over. I had just founded the Nimble Hogs, and I wanted to find a fusion. I was nearly killed by a proteunia on the fifth floor, so I left and came back, stopped at the inn and ordered a tall whiskey. Artivan talked to me about it, opening up for the first time about his own struggles in the dungeons before he left. I finally looked at his attributes and class.”

Chorsay stared at the book on his desk. “We talked about this book, and when he effortlessly tossed someone from the bar, I began convincing him to join me. I only had Sanem with me at the time and needed more heroes.”

“Do you ever wish he stayed at the bar?” Owin asked.

Chorsay ran his rough hand over the book. “No. He found joy in being a hero, and a man as selfless as Artivan needed an opportunity to shine.” He opened the cover of the book and silently read a few lines. “Visit Miya this evening. She has been working on something for you.”

“Okay.” Owin waited a moment before realizing that Chorsay had become fully invested in the book. He quietly left the office without the old soldier even noticing. He crept through the hallway and down the stairs to the lobby.

Potilia was also reading and didn’t seem to notice Owin at all. He passed right by into the mess where Myrsvai and Suta were now sitting a table. Steaming mugs of tea sat before them both with a massive teapot on a little plate nearby. The mugs were the biggest Owin had seen.

Suta pointed at the seat beside him when he spotted Owin. Myrsvai didn’t even bother looking over, focusing instead on lifting the overfilled, giant mug of tea. He blew gently before taking the smallest sip.

“Did you use any spells?” Owin asked.

Suta crouched on the bench instead of sitting, letting him more easily reach the top of the table. It made Owin feel even shorter than usual.

“No,” Suta said.

“I thought you agreed.”

Myrsvai set his tea down, splashing some over the side. He didn’t react to the heat as it spilled over his fingers. “He agrees every time and never uses one.”

“I use spells,” Owin said.

Myrsvai gestured to Owin. “See? You like Owin. He uses spells and fights with his fists.”

Suta raised his hands as if they were going to fight at the table. Owin shook his head. The familiar grabbed his mug of tea, took a drink, and offered it to Owin.

“I’m okay.”

Suta took another drink and offered it again.

“Suta, just put it down,” Myrsvai said. “Are you ready to leave in the morning?”

“Chorsay told me to visit Miya tonight, but I will be ready to go when you’re awake.” Owin tried to think of anything else he had to do. It wasn’t as if he had all that much to prepare. He had no reason to pack food and water or anything like others needed. As long as he had his weapons and chitin armor, he would manage.

“I was going to buy some health potions. I’ll give you some gold to grab extra when you talk to her tonight.”

“Couldn’t we do it right now?”

He laughed quietly as he lifted his mug to his lips again. After blowing on it and taking another tiny sip, he set the mug down. “Never visit Miya in the morning. She’s down there right now drinking the strongest coffee in the world as she is trying experiments or reading something. Her mornings are chaotic.”

“Where did Gavvuntar go?”

“Back to the Abyss. He has no interest in remaining in our world unless he’s fighting.”

Owin nodded slowly. He still didn’t understand how summoning worked. “Have you seen Vondaire?” Owin asked.

“That umbra? No, why would I?”

“He’s a Nimble Hog now.”

Myrsvai’s eyes glowed. “There is a hero in one of the previously unoccupied quarters. Should we visit him?”

“What about the tea?”

“It will stay warm. Suta, let’s go.”

The familiar hopped over the table and positioned himself directly on Myrsvai’s flank. Owin walked around the table and followed the magus into the lobby and up the stairs. Potilia flipped the page, glanced up, then went right back into reading.

Myrsvai led the way through the hallway to the room he had somehow detected Vondaire inside. As he lifted his hand to knock, the door opened, revealing Vondaire and his obnoxious smirk.

“A delightful visit from the infamous Maimed Magus himself,” Vondaire said.

“I heard you’re a Nimble Hog now,” Myrsvai said.

Vondaire gave a slight bow. “I could not resist the opportunity to work alongside a defeated magus, his unruly familiar, and an escaped mob. What a delightful bunch.”

Owin sighed. “Why did you help me if you hate us?”

“Ah, I do not hate you or the Maimed Magus. You see, I find you both fascinating, though you are unremarkable in most senses. When I acquire my first shard, you will begin to understand the differences between us.”

“We’re getting our first shards soon,” Owin said.

“Stop telling people that,” Myrsvai said.

“Shard,” Suta said.

Vondaire raised a single eyebrow. “Are you? Then, perhaps, we can make it a challenge of sorts. As we are allies now, I suppose we can divulge some secrets, no matter how tame they may be. In good faith, I will tell you first, therefore breaking the discomfort or the wall of secrecy between us. I plan to conquer the Ocean.”

“We’re also going to the Ocean,” Owin said.

Vondaire smirked. “Excellent. I will not travel with you inside the Ocean, though I have an idea of how to craft this into a competition.”

“How are you a Nimble Hog if you’re going right for a shard? That’s not helpful to us or Chorsay.”

“The old man and I came to a deal.” Vondaire leaned on the doorframe. “When are we leaving?”

“Don’t tell him,” Myrsvai said.

“Morning,” Suta said.

Myrsvai sighed.

“We will speak our terms of the competition on the ferry. I will see you in the morning.” Vondaire took a step back in his room. “Until then, I have business to attend to. Farewell.” He swung the door shut, closing it in Myrsvai’s face.

“I don’t like him,” Owin said.

“Me either.”