Chapter 11

“Open dungeon crawling!” Garmar said in lieu of hello. He sported a wicked grin. “In the next week, you will be preparing for a dungeon run of your choice!”

Pelle and I were thrilled. We weren’t the only ones. Pretty much every healer around us was equally excited.

“This run,” Garmar continued, “will be the last where we trainers can interfere and save students on the brink of death. It should serve as a warning. Though I do hope you pass with flying colors.”

“How many students has the guild saved so far?” A healer asked.

“45.”

“How many do you expect to save on the next run?”

Garmar paced his stage for a moment while regarding us all with some unreadable expression.

“Nearly all,” he said.

Pelle cast me a concerned look. The room filled with rising murmurs of disbelief:

“It can’t be. Impossible. So this happens every year? Does anyone die? I don’t believe it. This is a joke right? I don’t get it. How?”

Garmar waited out the murmurs. A somber feeling seemed to weigh down his posture. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“New adventurers always overestimate their capabilities. We’ve had to adjust our rules over the years to address the loss.”

“Wait,” I said and raised my hand. “Does this happen every year?”

Garmar nodded and clapped his hands as if the matter was over. He shook out the tension in his shoulders and continued.

“We’ll go over a few things in the meantime. We will discuss how to read dungeon levels, you’ll learn a new healing technique—one of my favorites—and you will assemble a party of 5. The traditional 5 at least. You will all prepare for dungeon runs of your own choosing during the rest of the week.”

“When can we learn some serious healing magic?” Someone asked.

“All in good time. We’re dealing with the fundamentals first of all. You need to learn how to deal with the basics and having little at your disposal. Worry not. Soon you’ll be swimming in worthless loot and healing options galore.”

Pelle cast me a glance that said: No we don’t already have piles of potions heaped in every corner and along every wall of our room!

“Alright. Let’s move forward,” Our trainer said. “You have trained with Healer’s Dust and Pyrrhon’s potions. Now you will train with a new technique! Life-steal!”

A few healers leapt up from their seats to throw a celebratory fist in the air. Pelle was one of them.

“I’m just as excited as you are!” Garmar said. “Life-steal is an enchantment. This year, you will be the first to try an updated version of Life-steal.”

Garmar flowed his mana into a giant ring before him. He brought out a pen shaped “Runic stylo!” and touched the tip to his mana ring. The stylo absorbed a silky ribbon of mana, absorbing an imperceptible amount of mana points. Then he drew a rune in mid air with it. The pen left a hovering gold light in its wake that rippled as though through the haze of heat.

“Runes,” he continued. “Runes can be drawn and applied to most anything. They can be triggered in a multitude of ways, but all require an input of mana at some point or another. Runes can also be drawn to enchant an item. All enchantments are runic in nature,” he continued. “Whereas runes remain open to mana manipulation, enchantments are closed after they are cast. One and done.”

“Does the user permanently sacrifice mana to draw a rune?” a boy asked.

“A general rule to follow, young adventurers, is that mana used to create something, or improve something, requires that you permanently sacrifice the cost of mana from your mana pool. Now: Mana used through whatever was created, uses temporary magic—whether it was a scroll, rune, word-spell, etcetera. For example: Creating a level 1 rune might cost 5 permanent mana points. Leveling that rune up might cost 1 permanent mana point. Using that rune however, would not come at a permanent cost. Only a temporary cost. This permanent allocation of mana points allows the enchantment or item to retain its inherent magic foundation.”

He finished the first rune. Then he moved on to a second, then a third.

He left the stage to start passing runic stylos around the room. Pelle and I got ours promptly and we flowed our mana into rings.

The chamber was thrown into vivid blue light over the next minute. Then gold started to mingle with the blue as students started copying the runes in mid air.

It was like standing between two waterfalls of light that mixed yet never touched. Gold and blue. Rippling gold, and rippling blue.

“This is a level 1 enchantment,” Garmar said after returning to his hovering hold runes. Each one was the size of an open hand.

“You may keep the stylos. Hopefully they will last you a few more times.”

He brought a simple dagger below all three runes. The runes wavered violently before descending to the dagger. They coated the blade and handle with filaments of gold thread that shone brilliantly. It seemed as if the dagger had been caught in a gold spider’s web of molten silk. It dulled to a low shine a moment later.

“Garmar?” I said, and he nodded up at me.

“I’m not sure I want to waste this enchantment on my mace. I might rather use it on something better.”

“Do you have something better?” He said.

“…no.”

“Do whatever you’d like Tosin.”

That was all I got. Son of Felke. I wish I had a better weapon. After training with Clouk, I lost a bit of confidence in my weapon wielding ability. There has to be something better for me. I was beginning to think the mace was a liability.

I gave a great sigh and raised my light mace below the runes. The wavering gold runes fell like the fibers of gold dreams onto the mace. It was covered in brilliant gold vines that dulled to a cool metallic gold. The gold gave off an insignificant bit of light.

The chamber was suddenly bereft of mana light. Then the chamber glowed hot white from the number of enchantments activating. I threw open my mana ring, observing that each rune had cost 1 mana.

“How much does the enchantment heal?” Pelle asked.

“Since it is a level 1, it heals 5 points.”

“That’s not a lot,” another girl said.

“Ah! But let me tell you what makes this enchantment so special!” Our trainer said with excitement. “The third addition to the enchantment allows for the healing to be copied to each party member!”

Garmar was swamped with questions as we were dismissed. Healers we’re showing off the gold patterns on their weapons to each other, but I wasn’t as jovial as everyone else was.

“What’s up?” Pelle said. “You look kinda bummed. Everything ok?”

“Honestly, I don’t think the mace is a good fit for me. What with my…” I held up my right hand briefly.

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“Like I said. Go talk with the mages. Or try the guild post.”

It was time to do just that. I presented my problem to the mages. They swarmed me, eager to help engineer a solution.

“So the problem is a weakness in your dominant hand?”

Lep was the most curious about my amputation and I didn’t really want to go into it. However, the importance of finding a suitable way to deal damage overrode my shyness about it. So I ended up explaining how I’d lost it.

“Hmmm. Ok. Let’s rule out weapons,” Lep said. “Are there items that healers like to use that aren’t weapons? Potions right? Anything else? Gloves? Walking sticks? Cloaks? books?”

I was speechless. I had no idea. I just stood there mouth agape like a fish out of water.

“Here, let’s go find your trainer,” Lep said.

Garmar was enjoying a brisk jog around the grounds. It’d taken us an hour to find him. I presented the problem as he listened and Lep asked if there were hallmark items healers often worked with.

“You’re thinking of enchanting something he doesn’t have to wield for close combat?” Garmar said, considering Lep’s train of thought.

“Well, I was thinking something could be enchanted for dual use,” Lep said.

“We just covered Life-steal today.”

“Not what I was thinking actually.”

Garmar stopped and considered Lep for a moment. I was silent and listening. Lep continued.

“Not dual use in that sense. Dual use in the sense that he could choose when to deal damage and when to use the item.”

“What about a spell book?” I said.

“Either that or flag bearing,” Garmar said.

“What about both?” I said.

“Which one’s easier for you to get your hands on?” Lep said.

“Sounds like you guys are on the right path,” Garmar said. “I’d like to see how you resolve this. Come fetch me if you need anything else.”

He leaned off into the rest of his jog, promptly disappearing around a wall of manicured hedges.

“Would flag bearing be too much for you to handle?” Lep said. “That might be the best place to start. Only reason is: it might be hard to get your hands on a spell book. Even empty. They’re quite pricey.”

“I’m not too sure what that entails.”

“From what I know, you can use a flagpole as a staff in dire situations. Most people use it for the flag itself. The flag can be enchanted, aligned to a divine deity or demi-deity for boons and a bunch of other stuff, and the pole can be riddled with runes and enchantments. Might be up your alley. You can deal damage with it, without ever having to wield it per say.”

Lep was awesome enough to accompany me to the guild post. We were getting along quite well and I offered to share some loot, or give him some potions, in exchange for all his help.

“I will most definitely take you up on that. Fair is fair after all. Why don’t we team up for the dungeon run coming up?”

“Yea that sounds awesome,” I said. “I’d like to party up with Arris too. He’s an ancienne. Solid guy so far.”

“Yes. The anciennes. Traders of old!”

“Traders?”

“Yea. They eat up nature and trade it with old people. I say old people but I’m really talking about ancient gods and ancient tree people and stuff.”

“Interesting. I tried to talk to Arris about it, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to go into it.”

Lep shrugged. “They’re weird. They keep things like it’s a secret or something—I don’t know. It’s hard enough having to deal with mage stuff.”

We shared stories of our adventures so far until we made it to our destination. The guild post was packed. Absolutely packed. Adventurers were shouting for party members, and all manner of trade was going down. Lep and I agreed to meet back at the mages lodge after I had my flagstaff figured out.

The first thing I did was talk to the solemn man at the healer’s post. The one with meaty square hands. He was brief with the healers in front of me. They left and he prompted me forward.

“Can I do for you?” he said.

“I’m curious about flag bearing for healers. Was hoping you could guide me.”

“Explain yourself.”

He listened attentively and I tried to keep my explanation short. He gave me a few options, and honestly they all sounded good.

“However, here is my advice,” he said. “Your companion was right. A spellbook will be hard to get your hands on. Pricey. Anyways, If you intend to enchant and modify a weapon of any kind, you’re on the right track. Not only do you have the benefits of a staff if it comes down to life or death, but also the flag. It’s going to cost you, and I’m not sure you’ll get a flag right away. Sell your mace, grab your flagstaff, and come back and find me.”

I sold my light mace for 20 silver and bought a simple wooden flagstaff for 6 silver, and a shoulder holster for 2 silver. The staff was just a head taller than me with eyelets where a flag could be hooked and hung. Several fist-length horizontal handles stuck out from the top where ribbons or other items could be hung from eyelets as well. Clear of people, I hefted the flagstaff. It was a bit unwieldy but I didn’t intend to use it in close combat. I wanted to prepare it for ranged combat. I figured I could better keep an eye on my teammates while healing and dealing damage. If I was in the thick of combat, I could lose sight of who needed healing.

The shoulder holster was made so that the user pushed the staff into a tension clamp that held it firmly in place. It took a few tries to swing it around my back, but with practice I hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward.

I returned to the solemn square handed healer with my new acquisition. He inspected it briefly.

“There’s no limit to how many flags you wield, or artifacts you hang. The only limitations are the alliances, agreements, and friends you make. You can add eyelets over time. You’ve got enough to start with though.”

“Alliances? Agreements?” I said.

“Divine dealings, young healer. You'll learn all about it in no time. For now, Let me start you off with the Five of Gryf.”

“The legendary winged healer!”

“That’s the one.”

He left the counter and browsed through a collection of fabrics at the back of his shop. He returned after a moment with a folded silver ribbon. It was thin and the edges tattered. There was a grommet on one end with a small chain dangling from it.

“This is a Five of Gryf. A ribbon of healing. If you know anything of Gryf..” he said, then paused to gauge my ration. I gave a slight nod, not having the heart to tell him I only knew a tiny bit. “...then you know that Gryf is one of the most neutral-ish divine legends. Equipping one of these shouldn’t be too much of a problem if you choose to favor other divines, deities, or demi-deities.”

“So I just attach it?”

“Like so,” he said and ran the chain through an eyelet at the top of the flagstaff. The chain had a hook that clasped onto itself, securing it.

“What does it do?” I said.

“It’s a level 1 Healer’s Ribbon. It heals your target by 5 points. Costs 5 mana. You can tap your flagstaff and aim your casting at your target. If you’ve got more than one article, you’ll have to isolate it by name. Simply say: Five of Gryf, then tap your flagstaff on the ground. If you want to cast all the spells you acquire at once, simply tap your flagstaff without isolating the articles by name.”

“I’ve got so many questions!” I said.

“That’s all I’ve got time for. Sorry. I’ll cut you a deal though. 20 silver for the ribbon and the lesson.”

“20 SILVER!”

I shouted loud enough to stop half the guild post and I lowered my head in shame. I meekly handed over 20 silver. More than half my coin.

I only had two things left to do. Have Lep help me enchant the flagstaff with something that dealt damage, then enchant it with lifesteal. Maybe being a healer flagbearer wouldn't be so bad.

I asked for Lep among some mages at the mages lounge and waited while they hunted him down. We met up and he invited me to his room.

“Very cool,” he said, inspecting the flagstaff. “Oh I see, look at the bottom here.”

He tilted the flagstaff and exposed the rune at the bottom.

“This is an impact trigger rune. So whenever the staff makes an impact, it casts whatever enchantments are on the staff. See these eyelets here,” he said, pointing at the metal holes that had been drilled and set in the wood at the tip and handles. Each one of these eyelets has an Isolation rune.”

“Apparently I need to call the name of the item I choose to cast, and it will isolate that one item,” I said.

“Yes. So the next thing we need to do is figure out how to add a long range damage enchantment or something to your weapon of choice.”

For the next hour we debated different courses of action. The flagstaff had 4 eyelets. Lep had the idea to install a simple rune beneath the lowest short handle at the top.

“I suggest the Fist of Wind,” he said. “It’s a simple level 1 rune that costs 2 mana to activate. Two reasons for this. It’s one of only a few runes I currently know, and second, it’s one of the best beginner spells to cast. In other words, there’s a lot of room for user error when casting it.”

“I’m game. So what do I do”

Lep paused for a moment, considering something. When it was settled in his mind, he presented a proposition to me.

“I want half of your loot in our next dungeon run. I also want 30 potions. You said you have a bunch.”

“How about 10 potions, and you can choose one of my looted items, except for the mana crystal.”

“As a gesture of good faith, I’m down with that,” he said and gave me a wide grin.

Lep sat himself comfortably at his desk and laid the flagstaff horizontally before him. I held it so it wouldn’t roll. He pinned down a page in a runic book. Fist of Wind, was italicized in bold at the top of the page.

From a stubborn drawer in his desk, he brought out a runic pen. His mana ring suspended above the desk and he drew a chiffon of mana from it. Then he concentrated carefully as he gracefully drew the runic symbol for Fist of Wind over the top of the flagstaff. When he was done, he urged me to flow 1 mana into it to set it in place.

I brought my mana into ring shape and watched 1 mana float as though underwater into the rune. The rune lit up a blinding white and grey. Then it descended to the staff and dulled to a white and grey metallic color.

“Done,” Lep said. “Feel free to level it up whenever.”

“One more thing I need to do,” I said. “I need to enchant it with lifesteal now.”