🎵: Dash of the Daring, Rise of the Iron Will, Babel's Harmony, Whispers of the Unseen

The practice yard buzzed with activity, but fewer recruits were present. Several training circles lay empty, marked by scattered sawdust and abandoned weapons. The air felt subdued, as if everyone sensed an impending change.

"Your observation skills are improving," Armsmaster Koren's voice came from behind me. "Yes, we're running lighter sessions today. Many of our regulars have been reassigned to increased patrols."

"Along the roads leading to Night's Hollow?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I selected a wooden sword worn smooth from countless training sessions.

Koren's face was unreadable, maintaining a steely calm. "We'll focus on dual-wielding today. You've shown a natural rhythm with two blades that we should develop." He tossed me a second practice blade, its weight landing heavy in my hand. "For now, show me your dual-wielding forms. Let's see if your mind can focus as well as it wanders."

I settled into the starting stance, both wooden blades held at ready angles.

"Begin with the basic patterns," Koren instructed, his voice sharp but not unkind. "Remember - combat is music in motion. Find your tempo!"

I moved through the forms, trying to match blade work to an internal beat. Step-slash-turn, step-block-recover. My arms already ached from gripping the practice weapons, but something felt different today. Perhaps it was the morning's revelations, but the movements began flowing more naturally. There was a sense of connection, of the parts of my body moving in harmony instead of resistance.

"Better!" Koren circled me, occasionally correcting a stance or adjusting my grip. His hands were firm, directing my limbs with practiced ease. "You're finally stopping to hear the music instead of just playing the notes. Now, add the footwork sequence we practiced yesterday."

The complexity increased as I incorporated the new elements. My bard's training helped me layer the rhythms - blade work as melody, footwork as bass line, body movements as harmony. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I maintained the pattern, my muscles protesting each twist and turn. Yet there was a strange clarity in it. Each step became more deliberate, each movement more purposeful.

"Good," Koren said, then without warning, swung his own practice blade at my head.

I reacted instinctively, weaving the defensive sequence into my existing rhythm. Wood clacked against wood as I deflected Koren's strike. The impact reverberated down my arm, but I held steady.

"Very good!" Real approval coloured Koren's voice. "You're learning to let your instincts flow with the rhythm instead of fighting them. Again!"

We fell into a complex dance of attack and defence. Koren would strike without warning, testing my ability to maintain my forms while adapting to genuine threats. It took all my focus to stay composed, balancing the mental strain of anticipating his moves while trying to keep my body in sync.

"Watch your left guard!" Koren's blade slipped through, tapping my ribs. The sharp sting made me wince. "Remember, the second blade isn't just for attacking. Use it to maintain your defence while the primary blade strikes."

I adjusted, finding a new pattern that incorporated both weapons more fluidly. The morning's translation work had taught me about hidden meanings and parallel purposes - perhaps combat forms weren't so different. Each movement could serve multiple functions, just as each document could tell multiple stories.

"Now you're thinking!" Koren pressed harder, his attacks becoming more complex, the tempo increasing. "Combat isn't just about the obvious strikes. Sometimes the real threat hides behind apparent movement."

Like falsified documents behind official seals, I thought, weaving through Koren's tricky combination attack. My heart pounded, my breathing quickening, but I expected and slipped past his sneaky strike at the last moment. A small smile tugged at my lips - I was getting better at reading his movements.

Suddenly, something clicked. The twin blades in my hands hummed with an unexpected resonance, like strings of an instrument finding perfect harmony. Time seemed to slow as patterns of movement crystallized in my mind - not just as physical forms, but as flowing streams of possibility. The weapons no longer felt like separate tools, but extensions of a single purpose, moving in perfect synchronization.

A soft blue glow briefly outlined both blades, and I felt a surge of understanding wash over me. The way the weapons could complement each other, create openings, defend and attack in fluid alternation - it all made sense in a way that transcended mere physical practice.

Skill Acquired: Dual Wield (Common 1)

Dual Wield (Common 1)

Name: Dual Wielding

Skill Type: Combat

Effect: Allows the user to effectively use two weapons simultaneously

Requirements: Two one-handed weapons

Cooldown: None

Duration: Passive skill, active during combat

Effects:

* Off-hand attack penalty: -4 to hit

* Special Ability: Rhythmic Strike - Brendan can attack with both weapons in a rhythmic pattern, granting a +1 to hit on the second strike if the first one lands.

Requirements for Common 2:

* EXP Requirement: Gain 150 EXP related to dual wielding.

* Skill Usage Requirements:

* Successfully land 15 hits with off-hand attacks.

* Use Rhythmic Strike successfully 10 times.

* Defeat 5 enemies using dual wielding.

"Master Koren!" I called out, catching my breath. "Something just... changed. I can feel the way the blades work together now."

"Well now," Koren said, lowering his weapon with an approving nod. "That's what we call a breakthrough. You felt it, didn't you? When two blades become one purpose?"

I nodded, still marvelling at how different the weapons felt in my hands now. "It's like... like translating two languages simultaneously. They each have their own rules, but together they tell a complete story."

"Ah," Koren's eyes lit up with understanding. "That's enough for today, then. You've unlocked the basic skill. Now we can work on bringing it up to Uncommon rank - that's as far as training can take you."

"Only Uncommon?" I frowned, lowering the practice blades. "In that case, I'd like to train my shortsword and dodge skills too, since they haven't reached that level yet."

"Of course," Koren nodded. "We can work on all three skills until they reach Uncommon rank. After that, only actual combat will advance them further."

"I understand," I replied, wiping sweat from my face. "When can we start?"

"Tomorrow. Get some rest - you'll need it." Koren glanced at the sun's position. "Besides, I believe Jay has something special planned for kitchen training today."

----------------------------------------

Familiar chaos greeted me in the kitchen like an old friend, though my combat-weary muscles protested at the thought of more training. The morning’s intense session with Koren had left its mark, both physically and mentally, while the new skill still hummed through my awareness.

The clang of pots and pans echoed through Haven's Cross's kitchen as I scrubbed what felt like the hundredth pot of the morning. Jay lounged against a nearby counter, "supervising" while polishing an apple against his shirt, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"The key to proper kitchen maintenance," he declared with mock solemnity, "is attention to detail." He took a bite of the apple, somehow looking dignified while clearly avoiding any actual work. "Much like picking a lock."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Whisker's Delicate Touch, the finely crafted lockpicks gleaming in the kitchen light. "Besides, wouldn't you rather practice with these?"

"Those are mine," I protested, checking my now-empty pockets. The finely crafted steel picks with their polished bone handles caught the light, making them seem almost magical. I dried my hands, trying not to look too eager as I reached for them.

"Ah ah," Jay pulled them back slightly. "First, tell me what you observe about that storage room." He nodded towards a heavy wooden door at the far end of the kitchen.

I sighed, but played along. "Iron hinges, solid oak, brass lock—"

"Wrong!" Jay tossed his apple core into a nearby bin. "That's what you see. What do you observe? Who has access? When do they use it? What patterns exist?"

Now I understood why he'd had me working in the kitchen for the past few days, besides doing his punishment duties. Every pot I'd scrubbed, every floor I'd mopped–they were opportunities to watch the kitchen staff's routines.

"Cook Marina checks it at dawn and dusk," I said slowly. "The morning shift stores dried goods there after breakfast rush. Nobody goes near it during midnight meals because the night cook. Matthews keeps everything she needs in the prep area."

"Better." Jay handed over Whisker's Delicate Touch. "Now, while you're cleaning the grease trap—" he grimaced theatrically at the mentioned task, "—practice on that lock. You know, between cleaning sessions. For educational purposes only, of course."

I looked at the picks, then at the mountain of dirty pots, then at Jay's innocent expression. "This is all just to get out of your punishment duties, isn't it?"

"My dear Brendan," he pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense, "I am providing valuable training while maximizing efficiency. Now, about that grease trap..."

I found myself elbow-deep in the grease trap, trying not to gag while simultaneously working the delicate picks in the storage room lock. Every few minutes, Jay would call out "advice" from his comfortable perch on a clean counter.

"Gentle touch, like you're trying to coax a cat off a windowsill," he said, munching on what I suspected were stolen cookies. "Feel for the pins, don't force them."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, trying to ignore the slime coating my other arm. "You're not the one wrestling with rancid grease."

"Character building!" He brushed crumbs from his shirt. "Besides, a spymaster's work isn't always glamorous. Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty." He paused, smirking. "Though usually not so literally."

The lock clicked softly, and I felt a small surge of triumph. Jay's eyebrows rose slightly. "Not bad. Now do it again, but faster. And don't forget the corners of that trap–they're especially educational."

"You know," I grunted, returning to the disgusting task, "for someone being punished for stealing food, you seem to have an awful lot of snacks."

"Ah, but did anyone actually see me take these cookies?" He winked. "No evidence, no crime. Another valuable lesson. Speaking of which..." He nodded toward a different door. "That pantry has a trickier lock, if you're interested."

Just as I was about to tackle the pantry lock, quick footsteps approached the kitchen. Jay smoothly slid off the counter, snatched Whisker's Delicate Touch from my hands, and somehow manifested a mop from nowhere–all in one fluid motion.

"And that's how you properly clean a floor!" he announced loudly, just as Cook Matthews bustled in. I was impressed despite myself; he'd looked completely innocent in seconds.

The cook eyed us suspiciously, particularly Jay, who was now mopping with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Everything in order here?"

"Just teaching the recruit proper kitchen maintenance," Jay said cheerfully. "Absolutely crucial for safety, you know. Can't have dirty floors causing accidents."

Once Matthews left, Jay immediately abandoned the mop. "Lesson two: always have a cover story ready. Also, timing is everything." He retrieved the lockpicks from wherever he'd stashed them. "Now, about that pantry–you'll notice the lock has a slightly different mechanism. And while you're figuring that out, those vegetables won't peel themselves."

I stared at the mountain of potatoes he'd somehow conjured. "How are you turning your punishment into my work detail?"

"I prefer to think of it as mutually beneficial training," he grinned, already back on his perch. "You get valuable skills, I get..." he waved vaguely at the kitchen, "supervision experience. Besides, you're going to need these skills for one of your tests."

"Test?"

His grin turned mischievous. "Let's just say Captain Reed has something interesting in her office. But first–those potatoes will not peel themselves, and that pantry lock will not pick itself."

Over the next hour, I alternated between peeling potatoes and working on the pantry lock, which was indeed trickier than the storage room. The pins were stiffer, requiring a lighter touch and more patience. Every time I thought I had it, one would slip.

"You're rushing," Jay commented, now reorganizing spice jars–which mostly seemed to involve moving them around rather than actually organizing anything. "A skilled lock pick is like a seasoned spy. Patient. Methodical. Willing to..." he paused dramatically, "... wait for the right moment."

"Like you're so patient," I grumbled, starting another attempt. "Didn't you get caught because you couldn't wait until night to raid the pantry?"

"Ah, but did I?" His eyes twinkled. "Perhaps I simply needed a reason to be assigned kitchen duty. Perhaps I needed an excuse to train a promising recruit without drawing attention."

I looked up from the lock. "You didn't actually—"

"Focus on your lock, Brendan. And don't forget those potatoes. Cook Matthews gets quite particular about properly peeled potatoes."

Just then, something clicked–both in the lock and in my mind. A new notification appeared:

Skill Acquired: Lock Picking (Common 1)

Lock Picking (Common 1)

Name: Lock-picking

Skill Type: Utility

Effect: Grants the ability to open locks and manipulate simple mechanisms. As the skill improves, you can tackle more complex locks and even magical seals.

Requirements: Requires lockpicks or similar tools (at lower levels). Higher levels may allow for magical or musical alternatives.

Cooldown: None, but failed attempts may damage lockpicks or alert guards.

Duration: Instant for each attempt.

Effect:

* Success Rate: 30% on simple locks

* Detection: -5% chance of being detected while lock-picking

Requirements for Common 2:

* EXP Requirement: Gain 50 EXP related to lock-picking.

* Skill Usage Requirements:

* Successfully pick 5 different simple locks.

* Attempt to pick locks in 3 different situations (e.g., doors, chests, manacles).

"Jay, I just got the lock-picking skill," I said, holding up Whisker's Delicate Touch with a mix of pride and uncertainty.

Jay's grin widened. "Now we can move on to the interesting part. Tell me, how do you feel about acquiring a certain... personal item from Captain Reed's quarters?"

Jay slid off his perch and casually strolled over, lowering his voice. "Captain Reed has a particular silk garment that I believe would be worth our while to... borrow. It's a test of your skills and our ability to remain unnoticed. If we can pull this off, it'll prove we're ready for bigger challenges." He paused meaningfully. "The kind that lives in a Captain's top drawer."

I nearly dropped the potato I was peeling. "You want me to steal Captain Reed's undergarments? Are you insane?"

"Consider it your graduation exercise," Jay said, plucking the potato from my hands and finishing its peeling with practiced efficiency. "Besides, you won't be stealing–you'll be borrowing. Just long enough to... well, that's not important right now."

"And if I get caught?"

"Then you clearly weren't ready for more advanced training," he shrugged, but his eyes were serious. "Though I should mention that the Captain takes her afternoon inspection of the walls seriously, and the guards on that corridor are... distracted around lunchtime, especially when someone might have added extra seasoning to their meal."

I stared at him. "Is that why you had me coating everything with extra pepper during lunch prep?"

"See? You're learning already." He tossed me Whisker's Delicate Touch. "The proper test begins tomorrow at midday. Don't disappoint me - and you can't cheat by using any of your bard songs." He stretched and headed for the door.

Name: Delicate Matters

Type: Side Quest

Difficulty: Hard

Level Range: Current

Time Limit: Two days

Quest Giver: Jay

Location: Haven's Cross

Starting Point: Translation Wing Kitchen

Brief Description: Successfully acquire Captain Reed's silk garment using only stealth and infiltration skills.

Full Description: A test of your developing infiltration abilities. Use the skills Jay has taught you to retrieve a specific item without detection.

Objectives:

* Primary Objective: Acquire Captain Reed's silk garment

* Secondary Objectives: Leave no trace of your presence

* Optional Objectives: Complete the task without being seen by anyone

Requirments:

* Lock-picking skill

Restrictions: No bardic abilities may be used

Rewards:

* Pair of panties

Fail Conditions:

* Being caught

* Using bardic abilities

* Causing damage or leaving evidence

* Direct confrontation

Notes: Failure may cause severe consequences and extreme embarrassment

"Wait–where are you going? And that is not fair."

"Oh, I think you've got the rest of these potatoes handled," he called over his shoulder. "Besides, I need to prepare a few more... distractions for tomorrow. And perhaps scout which drawer might contain our target. Good luck!"

I stared at the finely crafted picks in my hand, then at the mountain of unpeeled potatoes still waiting. Somehow, I'd gone from kitchen duty to planning to steal the Captain's undergarments in an evening. The weight of Whisker's Delicate Touch felt both comforting and terrifying–these weren't practice locks anymore, and this definitely wasn't just about cleaning grease traps.

Just then, Cook Matthews stormed back into the kitchen, looking around suspiciously. "Where's that worthless Jay?"

"He had to... attend to something," I said, quickly pocketing the picks and grabbing another potato.

"Of course he did," Matthews snorted. "That man hasn't finished a single punishment duty since he got here. Always disappearing, always with an excuse. Though I'll admit the kitchen's never been cleaner..." She eyed me thoughtfully. "He's got you doing all his work, hasn't he?"

I focused intently on my potato peeling. "He's been... teaching me."

"Teaching you what, exactly?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Proper kitchen maintenance?" I offered weakly.

Matthews laughed. "Well, whatever he's really up to, at least someone's getting the work done. Just... be careful with whatever he's actually teaching you. That man's trouble with a capital T."

As she left, I couldn't help but wonder how I'd ended up in this situation. One moment I'm peeling potatoes, the next I'm planning to break into the Captain's quarters to steal her undergarments. And the worst part? I couldn't tell if Jay was serious about this being a test, or if this was all some elaborate prank. Either way, I had a feeling tomorrow was going to be interesting–assuming I didn't end up in the dungeons.