Hadespera
The 21st of Elaphebolion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
With an uneasy weight settled onto his shoulders, Arche visited Vik, Elpida, and Gigator. The bulk of the day was behind him and his sleep hadn’t been particularly restful, but it was enough to rid him of his exhaustion debuff and get his attribute bonuses for all his hard work.
You have gained:
+1 Strength
+1 Endurance
Arche found Vik and the others sitting at a table in the open, playing some sort of game involving rocks on a lattice-style mat. Gigator sat on one side of the table, Elpida on the other. The latter was frowning heavily.
“What are they doing?” Arche asked Vik, who stood nearby, watching the game play out.
“They’re playing petteia.” Vik said it like the answer was obvious.
Rather than expose his ignorance once again, Arche waited and watched. Elpida had a series of light-colored rocks on her side of the grid, and Gigator had a number of dark rocks on his. They took turns moving their rocks across the board in straight lines, either vertical or horizontal. Gigator maneuvered one of his dark rocks adjacent to one of Elpida’s light rocks, sandwiching it between another dark rock he had placed on a previous turn. Elpida cursed and removed her stone from the board. Something about the game seemed oddly familiar to Arche, but the movements and the rules were as strange to him as everything else.
Arche watched them play. Two small piles of coins were sitting next to the board they were playing on. The coins were a dull grey metal. Arche Examined them, realizing he hadn’t actually seen what kind of currency Tartarus used.
Obol
Rarity: Common/Currency
Durability: 5 / 5
Weight: 0.002 kilograms
Arche mouthed the word, obol. Now he knew what the money was called, but he still had no idea how much it was worth or if it was the only kind of coin. Realizing that he hadn’t yet Examined his newfound friends, he made a show of interest in the game as he watched the players.
Elpida Giannakopoulou
Level: 19
Race: Human
Age: ?
Height: ?
Weight: ?
Profession: ?
Trade: ?
Traits: ?
Companions: ?
Adventuring Party: ?
Health: 810 / 810
100%
Stamina: 705 / 705
100%
Mana: 120 / 120
100%
Arche baulked at her vitals. He recognized that she was a few levels higher than he was, but her vitals were staggering. Judging by her Mana, it looked like she was almost entirely physically based, which explained the heavier style of armor that she wore. He turned his eyes to Gigator, wondering how the large lizard person would compare.
Gigator Sávrandras
Level: 21
Race: Sauros
Age: ?
Height: ?
Weight: ?
Profession: ?
Trade: ?
Traits: ?
Companions: ?
Adventuring Party: ?
Health: 1,040 / 1,040
100%
Stamina: 780 / 780
100%
Mana: 110 / 110
100%
Examine has increased to Level 3.
+2% Examine Speed (+6%)
It was enough to make Arche feel self-conscious about his own attributes. Part of him was surprised that he was anywhere near their levels, but their vitals put his to shame in almost all regards. It was one more sign that he still had a long way to go ahead of him. There was only one member of the trio left. Not sure what to expect, Arche Examined Vik.
Vikterandor has resisted the effects of Examine.
Arche froze. Vik turned sly eyes in his direction and winked at him. No one else Arche had Examined had resisted the effect or even signaled that they knew what was happening. Vik hadn’t shown anger, but if the strange elf could resist his Examine skill, he could also hide his emotions.
At the table, Elpida cursed long and loud in a grunting language that Arche didn’t understand, bringing his attention back to the game at hand. Gigator had reduced Elpida’s forces down to a single stone, which apparently meant she had lost. Gigator let out a booming laugh that had more than a bit of serpentine hiss in it.
“Every time! I don’t understand!” Elpida slammed her fist on the table.
The pieces bounced, threatening to spill onto the ground. Gigator was too busy gathering up the pile of obols. Vik let out a chuckle, slapping Arche on the shoulder.
“Let’s take a walk, friend. I’m sure Elpida wants a redemption match.”
Arche hefted the Tridory and walked next to Vik as they made their way up one of the hills that surrounded the village. When they were reasonably alone, Vik spoke.
“I notice you never put away your spear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen its equal. Where did you get it?”
Arche couldn’t think of a convincing lie, so he decided to be vague about the truth.
“The bottom of a dwarven ruin, behind several monsters and traps. What about your sword? I’m not familiar with that style.”
Vik drew his sword and held it in both hands, by handle and blade. Even in the light of the sun, Arche could see that the metal glowed a faint blue and the grip was masked by a beautiful swept basket hilt. The blade was skinnier than any Arche had seen, barely thicker than one of Lyssa’s arrows, and almost resembled a spike more than a sword. Still, the single edge was undeniably sharp and no doubt enhanced by magic.
“Starpoint has been my companion for many years.”
The hairs on Arche’s arms stood on end as Vik held the sword, but the strange elf sheathed it without further incident.
“You’re a strange one, Arche. I’ve been around Tartarus a few times, but something strikes me about you. There’s a naïveté to you that doesn’t befit an adult. Care to explain?”
Arche bit his lip, deciding how much to share. Vik hadn’t given him any reason to distrust the elf outright, but Arche still felt like he was hiding something.
“I have amnesia. Total mind wipe. Before a couple weeks ago, it’s like I didn’t exist.”
“Fascinating. Do you know how rare that kind of amnesia is?”
Arche gave a weak smile. “No, I don’t. I didn’t even remember my name. Lyssa gave me this one.”
“I was going to ask if you knew what your name meant. It’s an elvish concept.”
“She told me it means ‘beginning.’”
“Yes and no. It’s a point of philosophy, actually. Not just a beginning, but rather the beginning. The fundamental beginning. It’s more of an abstract than an actual thing, you understand.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
Vik chuckled. “Don’t feel bad. Wiser men than you have come to blows over smaller things. I want you to see things from my perspective, for a moment. A human who walks Tartarus seemingly for the first time, who wields a strange, clearly magical spear, has befriended both a banished wood elf and a satyr—which, mind you, the fact that she hasn’t killed him already is shocking in its own right—comes out of nowhere to warn our intrepid little village of an immediate attack and fights them off with impressive skill and tenacity. Then, just when I think the human might be out of surprises, I notice he’s trying to get a peek at my profile with a rare skill normally only utilized by heads of state, spies, and assassins.”
Arche shifted uncomfortably, not sure where this was leading. Vik smiled at him.
“You’re going to stage a coup, aren’t you?”
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“What? No!”
“Hah! You’ll have to improve your Deception, lad, that wouldn’t have convinced a child.”
Arche let out a heavy breath. “How did you know?”
“You wear your intentions on your chest. I knew from the first time you spoke to Callias that you wouldn’t stand him, let alone kneel to him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to stop you. I’m simply curious if you’ve thought this through.”
“I haven’t actually committed to it, yet. I’m still trying to get my friends on board.”
“That’s not surprising. But let’s say you do take down Callias. What about the villagers? Who will support them? How will you gather supplies? Do you know how to outfit a village? What infrastructure is needed?”
The more Vik spoke, the more Arche felt out of his depth.
“I don’t, no.”
“Normally I would ask you if you’d ever done something like this before, but given your memory situation I’m going to take that answer as a ‘no.’”
Arche felt a small spark of anger grow in his chest.
“What’s your point, Vik? Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“Not in the least. I’m trying to let you know how important allies will be. I’ll let you in on a secret: I lied earlier. None of my group are indebted to Callias. That’s our cover in case people get nosy.”
“Your…cover?”
“Aye. You see, lad, we three used to be pirates. Relax, we’re long since reformed. Point being that we were looking for somewhere to settle, get a new start away from the old life and any who might find us. This seemed like a decent enough place, out in the middle of nowhere, away from your usual law and order types. Plus, Callias was willing to pay for any muscle he could get. He knows very little of our situation, which didn’t sit well with him, but he needed capable fighters and not enough were in his debt. Now, I knew he was a terrible leader from the beginning, but I didn’t know the depths of his ineptitude.”
“How do you know I won’t be inept?”
“Because you’re not looking to place yourself on the seat.” Vik waved a hand to dismiss Arche’s impending questions. “Read it in your face. You’re not that kind of ambitious and I am an excellent judge of character.”
“What’s your point in all this, then? What do you want?”
“Is it not obvious? Security. I think you have the guts to pull off your plans and I want to make sure there’s a place for me and mine in the new village order. If you set yourself against Callias, you’ll need allies. And if you set your pretty friend at the forefront, you’ll need advisors.”
“And how do I know I can trust you?” Arche said, locking eyes with the elf.
Vik smirked and lowered his hood, revealing startlingly blue skin and dark hair covered in tiny, white dots, like stars among the night sky.
“Because I’m a moon elf and I give you my word that neither I nor mine will take any actions against you, so long as you take none against me or mine.”
Arche was about to ask what Vik’s being a moon elf had to do with anything when he received a notification.
Vikterandor has made you an Oath.
One’s word, once given, is binding. As a moon elf, Vikterandor’s word is doubly so. Breaking an oath has extreme consequences. If you accept his oath, you will be held to the same standards as though you were a moon elf.
Do you accept this Oath?
Yes
No
Arche dismissed the window. What a moon elf had to do with making an oath, he had no idea, but he knew how he felt about it.
“Trust is not a contract, it’s a leap of faith. I’m grateful that you would go to such a risk for us, but I won’t ask you to bind yourself to it. If you really want to help us, I won’t ask you to take an oath. I can’t speak for Lyssa, in fact she’s more prepared to speak for me, but if you truly wish to help us, then I will trust you at your word until you give me a reason not to.”
Leadership has increased to Level 3.
+1% Persuasion Chance (+3%)
+1% Reputation Gains (+3%)
-0.5% Reputation Losses (-1.5%)
Arche blinked away the notification and met Vik’s eyes. For the first time that Arche had known him, Vik looked genuinely surprised. The elf stared at him, his head cocked to one side in a fashion Arche had often seen Lyssa do.
“I just made you a binding vow and you reject it based on a loose belief that I will keep my word regardless of consequence? All this after trying to sneak glances at my profile and finding out I’m a former pirate?”
Arche smiled and held out his hand. “Yeah, sums it up.”
Vik let out a disbelieving chuckle and clasped Arche’s forearm. “You’re a strange one, kid, but I like you.”
“So people keep telling me. Welcome aboard, Vik.”
“We’ll see. In the meantime, I think we should get both of our groups together. Explain what’s happened and decide how to move forward.”
“Agreed. We should do so quickly. I think Callias is planning retribution for my ‘impertinence.’ The sooner we decide how to proceed, the less we’ll be taken by surprise.”
“I look forward to working together, lad. Who knows? Someday I might even let you get a look at my profile.”
Vik winked, then vanished.
One moment the elf had been standing there, the next, he was gone. Arche startled and fell backwards, landing on the grass. He looked around, but the moon elf was nowhere to be found.
“What the fuck?”
He had the sneaking suspicion that Vik was still somewhere nearby, laughing at him.
“Asshole!”
Arche grumbled to himself as he stood and dusted off the seat of his pants. What really concerned him was why Vik would show him this ability. Was this meant as a warning? A threat? Or was the moon elf messing with him? Was this a boast of his capability or a hint that Vik was aware of some of the things Arche himself could do? A million questions bloomed, each as valid as the next and none with easy answers.
Arche was left alone in the light of the dipping sun. Dark would be upon them within the hour. Arche stabbed the Tridory into the ground next to him and stared out over the village from his vantage point on the hill. There were a couple hundred villagers in total. Maybe a fifth of those were guards; former soldiers or mercenaries that Callias had hired for protection. The rest were crafters, traders, farmers, or common folk looking for a better life. Many were still repairing damage to their tents from the previous battle as a handful of small children chased each other through the camp.
Callias refused to enact even simple safety measures for the people that trusted him with their very lives. Instead of keeping an effective watch against the treeline to the valley, most of the guards were stationed around the single permanent structure that had been built; a large, wooden house that served the dual purpose of administrative estate and personal lodgings for one Callias Buteo.
It made Arche’s blood boil.
He couldn’t stand by and do nothing. That was the impetus for this entire harebrained idea. He couldn’t stand to watch Callias get the entire village killed. Inaction was complicity. He had to do something.
Lyssa would come around to the idea, he was sure of it. If she didn’t, he would respect her decision, but he had to act. Even if they didn’t stay, someone else needed to take charge. He could at least give the village the opportunity to pick their own leader. He wasn’t sure how widespread that concept was within Tartarus, but to him, not having a say in one’s leadership, even a small say, felt wrong. These people were putting their lives in the hands of whoever led the village, that trust needed to be recognized and respected.
Arche realized he didn’t actually know what claim that Callias had to the land. He had been given the impression that the land was being settled, but he didn’t know whether it was claimed by a particular kingdom or country. That could complicate things exponentially, but he doubted any kingdom would hold solid claim to lands that were so wild and filled with monsters. Even if such claims were held, they’d be near impossible to enforce. The difficulty would be in establishing a territory that was defensible and self-sustaining.
The valley itself could prove a lush environment, but drastic changes needed to be made and they would need resources. Wood was in abundance, but they would have to carve into the mountain for stone or create a quarry. Such an expedition would likely be expensive and laborious, not to mention dangerous.
It was a monumental task, to start a settlement, but Arche knew it would be for the best. As the daughter of the lord of Dawnwood, Lyssa would have been exposed to civic leadership from a young age. She would know what needed to be done. Probably. He certainly didn’t.
For now, he had some privacy and intended to use it to train.
“Are you still there, Vik?” he asked aloud.
There was no reply, so Arche had to trust that the moon elf wasn’t spying on him. He stood, hefting the Tridory. He hadn’t had a chance to experiment with the weapon in private, nor had he a chance to use his Divine Body skill without an audience.
He headed down the hill, out of sight of the village. Satisfied that he was alone, he hefted the spear in an overhand grip. He focused on his connection with the spear and felt it thrum in his hands. It felt like a living thing, humming in anticipation. Foolishness, of course. He was sure Lyssa would laugh at him. Whatever connection he had to the weapon, however, it clearly responded to him. He threw it, aiming for a tree that stood about ten paces away. It wasn’t a great throw, the aft of the spear rose up midair, but it hit the trunk near the roots. Arche held out his hand and the spear flew back to him at the expenditure of seven Mana.
The spear had gotten easier to wield as his Strength increased, making him wonder if there was some sort of requirement to the weapon. It made sense to him, but he was annoyed that the Tridory hadn’t told him what he needed to effectively wield it. As it was, it felt much heavier than any other weapon he had used. Without a high combination of Strength and Endurance, he was certain swinging it about would quickly eat through all of his Stamina.
He continued throwing the spear and summoning it back to his hand until both his Stamina and Mana were nearing half. He was sweating from the exertion and his arm felt ready to fall off, but he was rewarded from the effort.
Spear Throwing has increased to Level 5.
+3% Accuracy of Thrown Spears (+15%)
+2% Range of Thrown Spears (+10%)
+1 Strength
+1 Dexterity
Spearmanship has increased to Level 12.
+2% Damage with Spears (+24%)
That was a decent increase, and though the subskill was still at the Beginner rank, his accuracy and technique improved with every throw. Next came the dangerous part. Arche took a deep breath and tapped into his Divine Body.
His Mana dove and his Stamina shot up as light flooded from his skin. By rough estimate, he was burning through about fifty Mana per second. Almost as quickly as he activated the skill, he stopped it. His Mana bar blinked red, the number in the low teens, but he had prevented himself from running dry and risking Mana Burnout.
He waited for his Mana to regenerate over the next several minutes, then activated the skill again, trying to focus on the feeling of Mana flooding through his body. He could feel it suffuse all of him. Cautiously, he tried pushing it from his center into his arms. He felt the Mana react to his will. At first, it resisted his pressure, but after working and molding it inside of himself, it began to coalesce down his arms and into his fingers, causing them to glow even brighter.
Divine Body has increased to Level 4.
He’d skipped an entire level with it, which seemed to imply that if he experimented with his skills, he could earn more experience than simple repetition.
“I’m an idiot,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he fought off an impending Mana headache. “Of course new methods would provide more experience.”
He waited the ten minutes it took to refill his Mana, noticing that his usage of Divine Body had refilled his Stamina by almost a hundred points. He repeated the process a few times over the next hour as the sun dipped behind the lip of the valley.
Arche found he could slow the rate at which his Mana was consumed, the most being to a rate of about forty Mana per second, and that his Stamina rose by the same amount. He wasn’t sure if it affected his Health regeneration at the same rate, but he also wasn’t willing to purposely hurt himself to find out. That experiment would have to wait for the next time he inevitably got injured. As it was, he’d made considerable progress.
Divine Body has increased to Level 8.
Arche sat with his back against the tree he’d used for target practice. A side effect of his Divine Body skill was that he emitted golden light when he used it; now that it was dark, he didn’t think he’d be able to practice the skill without someone coming to investigate the glowing lights over the hill. He held the spear in his lap, wondering about the three buttons that Helwan had pointed out to him. He tried to focus on the bond he had with the spear. It vibrated in response. He pressed the topmost button.
Nothing happened.
Remembering that Helwan had mentioned a button on the opposite side, near where his thumb rested in the grip. He pressed it with his thumb and hit the first button again. Still, nothing happened.
Disappointed, he tried pressing the second button and nearly jumped out of his own skin when the spear whirred and shifted in his hand. The blade of the spear broke in half and separated, forming a bident that resembled a huge cattle prod.
“Whoa!”
Arche dropped the Tridory.
It remained in its new bident form, laying in the dirt as though rebuking him for his reaction. Arche picked it up and examined the separation in the fading light, wishing he had an Everlit Lantern. The two prongs were perfect mirrors, now separated by two hands length, each occupying a place on a crossbeam.
Curious, Arche pressed the third button and a new prong came out of the center, bladed on both sides. The bident was now a proper trident. He marveled at it, taking a few practice thrusts. The weight and balance hadn’t changed at all, meaning that a sudden change wouldn’t throw off his rhythm in the middle of a fight. That confused Arche. The balance should have changed, but it hadn’t. Arche started pressing the buttons again, this time watching the rest of the spear, trying to note any changes. As he cycled the buttons, bands of metal formed and unformed near the spike at the butt of the spear, the sauroter, counterbalancing the change in shape.
Arche adjusted his grip on the trident and tried the fourth button again.
The middle prong of the trident launched from the spear and embedded itself into the hillside, twenty strides away.
Arche stared at the spear, now a bident again, and then at the prong in the dirt.
Out of curiosity, he focused on his connection to the spear and reached out toward the prong with his mind, trying to recall it with the Return ability. The prong flew backwards out of the dirt, kicking up a spray of rocks and soil, and reconnected with the top of the trident, sliding into place as if it was an uninterrupted part of the whole weapon. He gave the trident an experimental twirl, playing around with switching the forms mid strike. The change was quick, near instantaneous, and no matter how closely he watched he could see no hint of a seam of mechanical parts. Whoever had built the Tridory had clearly designed it to be versatile and durable.
Arche grinned. The bloodthirsty part of him wanted to test out the spear’s new functions in combat. With any luck, however, that wouldn’t be for some time yet. Still, Lyssa’s warning was still as true as it ever was.
Tartarus was a dangerous place, but he was one step closer to being ready.