Jack woke to a searing pain in his leg. The wolf was still attached to his thigh. “Ahhh!!” he screeched as he jerked away. A wave of nausea hit him as the wolf was dragged along.
Stopping just short of retching, he regained his composure. Upon further inspection he saw that the wolf was dead. It must have bled out, and I was too far gone to tell. Before the next wave of pain rose, he grasped the wolf’s jaws and pulled. Fresh blood welled from the wounds.
Let’s see how bad it is, he checked his status.
Name: Jack Herring
Race: Human
Level: 14
Experience: 495,760/819,200
Health: 7/150
Mana: 210/210
Strength: 12 (+4)
Agility: 14 (+2)(-1)
Vitality: 15 (+5)
Intelligence: 21
Skills:
Inspect level 1
Haggle level 2
Fire Starting level 1
Butchering level 2
Cooking level 1
Woodworking level 1
Spears level 3
Axes level 1
Spells:
Paralyze level 2
Boons:
Polyglot
Contestant
Seven health! he thought in astonishment. No wonder I feel like crap. Jack inspected the wound on his leg. His thigh was open to the bone and the surrounding riverbank was stained red.
I need to learn healing. Trying not to exacerbate his wounds, he removed his pack and pulled out the spellbook. “Owww,” he groaned. It hurts to move.
Finding the page on healing, he skimmed the instructions. Ok, so I need to focus on my thigh being whole. Then, I send mana to the image, just like before.
Jack visualized the spell and cast. Warmth spread throughout his injured thigh.
Did it work? he wondered and opened his status. He had healed two of his health.
You have learned the spell: Heal
Yes! He had learned the spell Heal. At level 1, it healed 2 of his health for 50 mana and he could cast it once per minute. Hopefully it’s more powerful as it levels or I’ll be here forever.
Jack healed himself three more times before running out of mana. Eight health every ten minutes is still better than the three per hour I get if I just sit here and do nothing.
Ugh, it still freaking hurts so bad. Jack couldn’t wait the full 10 minutes, he recast the spell as soon he regenerated 50 mana.
The spell Heal is now level 2.
Sweet, level up! Two minutes later, he healed himself again. He carefully noted the amount it healed and the mana it consumed. Three health for forty-five mana, not bad, he judged, impressed with the increase in power.
For two hours Jack healed himself, slowly easing his pain. Eventually, Heal gained another level.
The spell Heal is now level 3.
His next spell healed for 5 health and cost 41 mana. Jack could now heal five times before running out of mana. That’s huge progress. Shaking his head in derision he thought, And all I had to do was almost die.
Once he reached 120 of his 150 health, he inspected his wound. Still tender, let’s see if I can walk on it. Rising to his feet, he tested his leg. It still hurts, but I can push through, he decided. I gotta make it to Stonehold tonight.
He set off at a run, wincing at each step. I wonder if I can heal while running. Splitting his concentration, he pictured his wounded leg while watching for roots and rocks. Awesome! He was successful, but doing two things at once increased his cast time. I need to get better at casting while distracted. In a fight, a second is the difference between life and death.
With his upgraded spell, he was soon at full health with no pain. This is so amazing. Without magic, I’d be hurt for days. He tried casting heal again, yet felt no warmth. I guess I can’t level healing if I’m not hurt. He was not desperate enough to try harming himself to level.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
As the hours passed and the sun began to set, it became rockier. Crap, it’s hard to see, he complained as he tripped over another rock. Just as he was about to give up running, he spied a cottage in the distance. He left the rocky bank and headed toward the squat structure.
It’s a farm, he rejoiced, relieved to find civilization. Past the farmhouse, he saw neat fields and could just make out a rough dirt road in the fading light.
Spotting the farmer paddocking his sheep for the night, Jack approached, “Hello, do you know how far it is to Stonehaven?”
Spitting to the side, the farmer responded, “Bout ‘nother two hours down tha road.”
“Thanks,” he waved goodbye and sped on.
If the road stays this flat the entire way, I can run in the dark. With his speed now doubled, he was sure he would reach Stonehold that night.
He passed more houses before the sun set. The road grew wider and smoother, and the houses closer together. In the dark, he could make out a huge wall topped with crenellations lit by torch, towers behind. It’s a castle! His excitement overcame his growing hunger, spurring him on. I’d rather eat in town than have dry rations again. As he neared the closed gates he called out to the guard.
“Hello, can I enter the city?” he sputtered, still out of breath.
A guard leaned over the wall and peered down at him. “There’s a silver fee to enter at night.”
“I can pay,” he sighed at yet another expense.
A small door set within the gate opened, and a second guard came out.
“Let’s see the coin,” grumbled the second armor clad guard, his hand on his sheathed sword.
Jack opened his coin purse, careful not to reveal his gold. He handed over a single silver coin. The guard inspected the coin and then dropped it into a small pocket in his cloak “Be about your business.”
Did I just get scammed? Jack wondered as he rushed through the gate. Oh well, I’m in town now and starving, it’s time to eat.
He walked along the cobbled, lantern lit street admiring the architecture. Unlike the small village of Rivertown, this was a true city. Two and three story houses towered over him. They were painted bright colors that stood out even in the lantern light with garish signs advertising their wares. In the distance an inner wall and keep rose above the rest of town.
This place is huge, I bet over a hundred thousand people live here.
Jack heard raucous laughter pouring out of a large building to his left. A lantern illuminated a sign stating “Delver’s Inn.”
Well, it's gotta be better than dry rations, he thought as he entered the bustling inn.
Waitresses danced between tables, delivering new ale to their thirsty patrons. Jack approached the bar and asked, “Hello, what’s on the menu?”
A gruff voice replied, “Chicken-n-potato is a silver, stew is 15 copper, and ale is 10.
“I’ll take the stew and an ale. How much to stay the night?” Jack asked.
As the heavy set man reached for a new glass, he said, “A shared room is two silver, a private is ten.”
Jack’s eyes widened at the steep prices. The dungeon better pay well, or even my gold won’t last long. “I’ll take a shared room please,” he lamented and handed over his precious coin.
The barkeep took his coin and gave him his ale in return. “Find an empty seat, I’ll have one of my girls bring your stew.”
“Thanks,” Jack turned to examine the room. He hadn’t wanted to buy ale, but he needed information and for that, he needed to fit in. That table looks promising, he thought and headed toward the round table close to the bar. Two of the six seats remained. He approached a thin man with black hair and a large mustache and inspected him.
“Excuse me Gurt, is this seat taken?” he nodded toward the empty seat.
“Have a seat Jack, it’s always nice to make a new friend.” Gurt replied, pulling the chair back for him.
Nodding his thanks, he sat. As Jack placed his tankard down, the bull headed man across from him asked, “So Jack, are you new to town?”
Jack inspected the speaker before answering. He was named Bron and was level 24. He has three hundred and fifty health! Nodding his head he said, “Yeah, I just got in and want to try my hand at the dungeon tomorrow.”
“I’ll drink to the that!” replied a hook nosed woman named Arela. Her hair was tied behind her and fell down her well-oiled green studded leather armor.
“Here, here!” the rest barked glasses raised.
“So, are you in a delving party, or were you hoping to find one near the registration desk?” asked Bron.
A waitress sat his stew down and he thanked her before responding, “Actually, I don’t know anything about the dungeon, I was hoping to find out more tonight.”
Bron slammed his tankard down and grinned widely, “Well, you are in luck, we are dungeon bound tomorrow as well. We’d be more than happy to let you join us. Isn’t that right boys?”
“The more the merrier,” Arela replied.
“Of course!” said Gurt with a smile.
“Sure,” said a short reserved man named Jefren between drinks.
Jefren doesn’t seem like much of a talker.
“Well, now that that’s decided, I know all you need to know about the dungeon.” Bron paused, taking a deep drink. “Stonehold’s a dangerous place, I can tell you that for sure. It’s filled with vile creatures that would love nothing better than to gut you.” Bron made a quick gesture with his hand, upsetting his ale. “Luckily, you have me to guide and protect you. And the rest, of course” he added swiftly, gesturing around the table.
“Aye.” added Gurt.
Bron leaned forward with a smile and confided, “The loot is what makes it worth all the risk.”
“To the loot!” Arela toasted, clinking her glass with the others.
“Hell, the loot is why this town’s here in the first place. Take yourself for example, would you have come to Stonehold if it didn’t have a dungeon?” Bron asked rhetorically, not allowing Jack to respond. “Of course not. No cities exist without either a dungeon or a temple.”
“Is there a temple here too?” Jack interjected. Maybe he can tell me more about Elantarr?
“Well, there are a few shrines to Gestar and Tolor I’m sure, they are big around here, but no true temple.” Bron explained. “Tolor has entire cities full of his followers, led by his acolytes and champion.” He swept his hand to the side, “Forget all that, the dungeon is what is important and the loot it holds.”
“You mentioned a registration desk, what’s that about?” Jack asked.
“Taxes,” he cursed. “The castellan’s got this racket set up, charging delvers a fee to enter. He says it’s for the walls and the guard or some such, to protect the city.” The disgust on Bron’s face belied his true feelings as he spat out the last words.
“How much do they charge?” Jack asked as he finished his ale.
“Five silver a person,” hissed Arela.
“Don’t worry Jack,” Bron rejoined. “With us, you’ll make that back and more!”
“Besides,” added Arela with a smirk, “With jewelry like that, I’m sure you can cover the fee.” Jack heard a thump and Arela turned to scowl at Bron.
“Hey Bron, tell him about the floor boss.” added Gurt.
Rising to his feet, Jack confessed, “Actually, I need to pee and another ale, I’ll be right back.”
“Privy’s out back,” Gurt nodded to his left.
Jack thanked him and walked toward the back. As he passed the bar, the barkeep gestured. Jack approached cautiously. I hope I don’t owe him any more money.
“Watch yourself around that group.” the bar owner warned in a low voice.
Jack stopped and challenged “Why, they seem friendly enough to me?”
Shaking his head, the barkeep added,”Just watch yourself is all.”
“Ok….” Jack trailed off as he left for the privy. That's not exactly helpful.
Jack returned to his table, new ale in hand.
“Welcome back Jack! I was just reminding Arela here about the time I saved us all from that patrol of goblins.” Bron pushed back his chair, placing his feet on the table. “So there we were, resting after a magnificent fight, when four goblins came barreling around the corner. Everyone was frozen, but not me,” he boasted. “I jumped up, pulled my sword and let out my battle cry!” He leapt to his feet and let out a guttural scream. Most of the bar turned at the sound. “I charged them right back! You should have seen the looks on their little green faces!”
“I wasn’t afraid!” Gurt shot back. “I was just waiting for the right moment to attack.”
“Of course you were…” Bron placated him. “So there I was running at this pack of goblin warriors with only my sword and wits . . . “
Jack enjoyed the groups harrowing tales throughout the night.
I can’t wait to get to the dungeon!