The air was crisp as Krypdyr scrubbed the deck of the airship. As the squire of his squad of Stormchasers, menial tasks were often his responsibility. But he’d been given a new task by Damian Cashew himself. Well, at least a message from him anyway. He’d be training a potential new recruit, and working on his own training. He couldn’t join as a full Storm Chaser until he reached Adept.
As part of his training, he always insisted on wearing his heavy plate armor as he worked. The plate mail he wore was a dark metal accented with gold, with storm ore etched runes that silenced any sound the armor would have made. Central to the breastplate, a symbol of a golden snake poised to strike nearly filled the space not taken up by the enchantment.
He was Gorgonian, more snake than not, and many times he'd been mistaken for a pure snake chimeran. Rather than the typical human face with snake hair, his entire head was that of a venomous snake, black scales covering his entire body. Rather than legs, a long tail coiled beneath him, ring plates linked by chainmail down to a foot above the ground. He was barrel chested and his thick arms swung the mop with a gracefulness that belied his hulking form. A large sword rested in its scabbard across his back.
“It's so odd that you make no noise,” a voice said from the doorway leading inside. Krypdyr's amber eyes blinked slowly as he silently continued his work.
Rosco Denton stepped out onto the deck. He stood nearly as tall as Krypdyr, his upper body sporting the head and thick grey skin of an elephant, his lower half the strong legs and balancing tail of a kangaroo. He wore green leather armor with hardened leather plating and storm ore studs along the shoulders, bracers, and leg plates.
“Of all the enchantments you could have chosen, why the silent one?”
His voice was deep, and held none of the telltale elongated hissing usually associated with Gorgonians. “Noisy armor gives away movement. Easier to track and avoid in combat.”
“Speaking of, it's time for sparring.”
“Yes, sir, but I’m almost finished here. I'll join shortly.”
“Okay,” Rosco said with only a hint of warning. “You know he doesn't approve of lateness.”
Krypdyr nodded, picking up his pace. “Rosco?” He turned back in the doorway. “Why send me to guard and train a Novice?”
“You say that like you didn't just rank up from Novice.”
“I've never heard of the Scuffle Alliance sending a whole squad to deal with a Novice.”
Rosco stepped closer to Krypdyr, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Honestly, me neither, and it’s not official that our target is Novice in the first place. But if rumors are true, he'll be invaluable to our success in future competitions. Not this one, as there isn’t time to get him to Adept to allow him to compete.”
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Zeffrey and Ellisandra left the others to begin funeral preparations, heading straight to Captain Luma. Standing in the training yard, she thrust her sword forward with a flutter of her wings, continuing the sword dance she had sorely missed now that she’d recovered her sword. Her sword played with the light, and they stood watching until she turned and noticed them.
She hastily sheathed her sword and several beats of her wings brought in front of them, “Zeff! I'm glad to see you are alright.” She noticed the sour looks they shared. “Who?”
“Umberto,” Ellisandra said, unconsciously clenching her fist.
Sadness drifted over Luma, but she didn't show signs of it, “Tell me everything.”
After half an hour and a transition into Luma's dwelling so they could sit, Luma stood and began pacing.
“You're sure?” She asked.
“I checked the database myself,” Zeff answered.
“Having a Luckomancer on board would be an immeasurable boon.”
“What about the Adept?” Ellisandra said, involuntarily swallowing hard.
“That is a problem,” Luma conceded, “even if we all rushed him at once, he'd just have an easier time killing us all grouped together.”
“What do we do?” Zeff asked, “he's my friend, and I'd rather not see him dead or enslaved by whoever hired the Adept.”
“If he is a Luckomancer, he'll free himself soon enough. We just need to be ready to help however we can.”
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“Are you alright?” Nate asked as he stood over Skelwulf, who had fallen to the ground and ripped his shirt at some point in his pained writhing. Nate noticed a complex rune seemingly carved into Skelwulf’s chest.
“Fine,” he lied, getting back to his feet. “We need to leave soon.”
Nate, who's quest hadn't quite updated to show success, pivoted. “That manifestation portal was rough on me and my friend here,” he motioned to Fuzzball, who had been tentatively watching Skelwulf their entire meal.
“He has no bearing on the situation at hand. You alone are coming with me.”
“If I get no rest, I'll be dead before we get there.” It wasn't exactly a lie, as the adrenaline had worn off and exhaustion had hit him like a truck.
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Nate felt the pressure from Skelwulf's aura again, but it was different, merely sensing him out instead of being oppressive. It felt menacing and strong, and he wondered if his own aura would become like that as he progressed.
“A few hours. We leave at dawn.”
“May I go up to my room?”
“No.”
Nate pointedly looked at Fuzzball, “Would you mind bringing a bed down? I don't think I'd get very good sleep on the table here.”
Skelwulf ignored all but his duty of watching over his target, so Fuzzball freely moved around the area.
“What do we do?” Fuzzball asked through the chat once he was upstairs.
“Buy as much time as we can. Can you see if any of our books have information about the mark our wolf friend has on his chest? Look for something called Geas, possibly.”
“You know what it's called?”
“We have a tabletop game called Dungeons and Dragons that has a spell called Geas, which forces someone along a course of action, causing pain if deviating from it. In fact,” he spoke aloud to Skelwulf, “that mark that's on your chest, is that a Geas Rune, or some such naming?”
A look of surprise crossed Skelwulf's face before he corrected. He felt a tingling of the pain threatening to rise, so he said nothing.
“Good, right track.” Back to the chat, “That's on the right track, so hopefully you find something we can use.”
Nate soon lay in the bed that now sat among the tables and chairs. He went through more of his notifications before sleep took him.
Conjuration has increased from Novice 13 to Novice 16. Total Magic has increased by 3. Progression to Level 11 at 44%.
Evocation has increased from Novice 10 to Novice 14. Total Magic has increased by 4. Progression to Level 11 at 60%.
Restoration has increased from Novice 11 to Novice 15. Total Magic increased by 4. Progression to Level 11 at 76%.
Archery has increased from Novice 18 to Novice 20. Total Health increased by 2. Progression to Level 11 at 84%.
Light Armor has increased from Novice 7 to Novice 13. Total Fatigue has increased by 6. Progression to Level 11 at 100%. Progression to Level 12 at 8%. Choose a primary stat to increase. Current Health: 168/168. Current Fatigue: 163/163. Current Magic: 196/196.
He chose to increase his health to 178.
Perception has increased from Novice 9 to Novice 11. Total Health increased by 2. Progression to Level 12 at 16%.
Acrobatics has increased from Novice 14 to Novice 16. Total Fatigue increased by 2. Progression to Level 12 at 24%.
Cooking has increased from Novice 12 to Novice 13. Total Fatigue increased by 1. Progression to Level 12 at 28%.
Indomitable Spirit has increased from Novice 11 to Novice 13. Total Magic increased by 2. Progression to Level 12 at 36%.
Nate slept for four hours before Fuzzball shouted him awake via the chat.
“What is it?” He asked as he shifted and rubbed sleep from his eyes. He felt well rested, and checked his character sheet. To his surprise, his exhaustion bar had dropped all the way to 10%. He made a mental note to ask about that later.
“I found the mark, and I think we can do something about it.” Nate's journal updated and he checked it.
Secret Objective for Distraction Action discovered. Secret Objective: Save Skelwulf from his current fate.
Reward: Apprentice Spellbook.
“I agree,” Nate said. “Just got a secret quest objective.”
“I think we'll need the podium, set to an enchanting station.”
“Bring the book.”
Nate sat up, seeing Skelwulf watching him from a nearby table. He smiled widely as he stood and stepped over to the Interface Podium, which was still set up as a hibachi grill.
“Don't you need sleep?”
Skelwulf shook his head, “Not for a while. We're leaving now, gather your things,” Skelwulf said gruffly.
“Not yet. What if I told you we have a solution to your little problem?”
Skelwulf looked at him incredulously before holding Nate aloft by the neck. Nate hadn't even seen the movement. “I don't have time for this.” His aura pulsed through Nate. “You are rested enough.”
Fuzzball walked into the tavern carrying a thick tome. The binding was crimson leather embossed with the title on the front. He nearly dropped it to rush at Skelwulf but Nate raised a hand.
“Could… you-” Nate rasped, struggling to take a breath. Skelwulf dropped him to the ground. After he coughed and swallowed several deep breaths, he continued, “Look. I understand that trust isn't something that you are brimming with, but I need you to give me a little. I'm putting my trust in you, at least as far as I know you can't kill me without angering your boss.”
“We are leaving. Gather your belongings.”
“I'm not leaving yet. My podium here isn't in a position to be easily moved around, and only I can change it.”
Skelwulf growled and slammed a fist into a table, shattering it to pieces.
Nate bent to touch a table shard and cast Mend. “Now you're just being ridiculous, Skelly.”
In a flash he was flung horizontally through one of the front windows, the shards of broken glass slicing up his rat-mole leather armor and leaving superficial cuts he quickly healed and mended. The air knocked from his lungs was the worst of it.
“Ouch,” Nate gasped. “How rude.”
Fuzzball rushed to his side and helped him to a sitting position. “Why are you goading him?”
“The quest is still active, remember? That hurt, but if we can help him, it benefits everyone. Hand me that book while we have a second.”
“Greater Manipulation,” Nate read the front before cracking it open.
“I marked the page.”
The page in question showed a symbol that was remarkably similar to the one on Skelwulf's chest, though a handful of the runes were different.
A Geas Mark was Expert ranked magic, and Nate could see even from his initial glance that Fuzzball and he working together didn't have enough magic between them to remove the mark. It contained elements from the Alteration, Divination, Enchantment, and Evocation schools, and a staggering amount of magic was required.
“Why does this look impossible?” Nate said, running his fingers over the text as he read.
“Because we're not strong enough to deal with it.”
“Maybe not, but we may be smart enough. The evocation runes account for the pain he experiences. The divination maybe for the boss being able to sense him?”
“Alteration could be in conjunction with the Evocation runes, the pain caused by altering his physical form.”
“Then what's the Enchanting element for?” Nate asked as he read.
Skelwulf appeared in the doorway, teeth bared in rage, “You don't get to call me that.”