I’m really itching to show you the guys the hidden class… and the secondary class… and the rest of the story. All in due time! If you want to know approximately when the first class will be revealed, it should be chapter 4 or 5.
In the meantime, enjoy!
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Marcus nodded to Ian’s words, tasting the name on his lips, “Anarch, huh. A strange name.”
“It means “ideal sovereign,” the positive counterpart of an anarchist. I got it from a book that I liked,” Ian commented with a chuckle. “In any case, the first meaning of the name is incomplete. I’m working on expanding it.”
The two turn and walked towards the city gates. Marcus had miraculously sobered up to an astonishing degree. He raked his calloused fingers through his immense black beard a few times to shake loose the ice and snow that had settled there.
The Templar grumbled absentmindedly during his task, “That’s very ambitious of you, youngster.” He looked up to squint at the giant eagle just passing overhead and continued sarcastically, “Is that your path then? Planning to take over the Emperor’s seat?”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Hardly. I have no feud with Elion. I meant the immediate future when I mentioned my path earlier. Like hell I could get past your counterparts in the Hallowed Halls after only four months of training.”
The massive Templar snorted as they passed under the portcullis, “Indeed. No one of your… capability… would be able to come within a mile of it with hostile intentions before dying an abrupt, light-filled death.” He looked around at the gawking guards who seemed surprised to see him sober and then frowned. “Where the hell are we going? You haven’t explained anything to me yet and I’m starting to regret agreeing on a whim.”
“Ah come off it. We’re heading to the Tailor shop, followed by the Jewelcrafting trainer. Then, I need to swing by a few other trainers while picking up a few items in preparation for grinding the next day. Ah, scratch that, I only have 50 copper...Just those two professions then. After that…” Ian turned his gaze to look at the templar swaggering beside him like a mountain. “I need you to teach me dagger proficiency, sword proficiency, staff proficiency, healing light, and blessing of intelligence.”
Marcus came to an abrupt stop, gawking at the young man dressed in white gear. He ground out slowly, “I can understand the first three, but do you realize that the last two are the greatest reward my order can give out? To be able to learn those spells outside of the correct class is the highest honor.”
Ian nodded with a small knowing smile. “Of course I know. Would I have been knowledgeable enough to include them if I didn’t know the circumstances?” He paused to look at a food stall wistfully before continuing unhurriedly, “I don’t know if you’ve realized this Marcus, but I am a classless traveler. I have no abilities at the moment.”
The templar’s eyes went wide. “That’s a death sentence!” he exclaimed gruffly.
“If not for you, yes, I would be royally screwed. I do have a reason for it though,” Ian explained. “I’m after a hidden quest that awards a special class upon completion. It requires me to be a novice level 10 to be able to get the reward. Asking you to teach me these spells is so that I have at least some survivability and damage capability until then.”
Marcus grumbled a few more complaints before finally giving in. It wasn’t really a huge deal to him anyway. He just had to teach him the phrase and show him how to harness the power in the right way. The game wasn’t too brutal in requiring spoken spells. Learning it once was enough. From then on, it became more of a “channeling” process to cast while the game automated the special effects for the players.
Ian really hadn’t anticipated him giving him too much trouble over it. The templar was retired, so to speak, and no longer had to hold to the customs of the Hallowed Halls where he used to serve. It was entirely up to him who he taught his skills to and Ian was currently his employer.
What the young twenty year old didn’t tell him, however, was that a loophole had been discovered nearly 8 years after the game’s inception in his other life. A novice, classless idiot had miraculously stumbled across a sorceress that was in a bind, helped her and then was granted her service for a term for getting her out of that crisis. Pretty soon, that lucky bastard had figured out that he had gotten his hands on an epic follower and randomly asked her if she had skills she could teach him.
He’d meant it as a joke of course, but the sorceress had taken him seriously, granting him a Buff spell(spell that enhances a target for a duration), an elemental shield skill, and the ability to teleport to city nodes he’d been before. This, in and of itself, wasn’t necessarily a new concept. Uncommon or Rare followers could also dole out skills to travelers who were novices. These spells always went away though whenever the player inevitably picked a class when they reached level 10 and all experience progress was halted.
The Turen-shattering difference in this case was that his skills remained even after he’d already picked up a class. And it wasn’t even a spellcaster; he’d picked a warrior - which was hilarious in its own right, because warriors didn’t have mana, the resource required to operate all three of the skills.
After the information spread, and every guild in the area had hunted him back to level 1 for wasting such an opportunity, several trial cases were conducted by some guilds and private companies to determine what the conditions were for this to happen. The two criteria that were revealed was that a) a player had to be a novice without a class, and b) the follower granting the skill had to be at least of epic tier.
This didn’t mean much for the average player, but for a veteran like Ian it was incredibly important information at the time. Sadly, the grand majority of epic followers, which were damn near impossible to find, were already snatched up. He would spend hours researching sightings and possible candidates, as well as players who had already succeeded in obtaining an epic follower, just to get an idea of how conversations went and quests were generated.
Followers are that important to ranged classes like mages, especially melee types that are tanky. Like the big, lovable bastard walking beside him. As soon as he’d decided on the starting town, he immediately searched his memories for untaken epic followers in the area and that inevitably led him to Marcus.
Now that he was back at the beginning of it all, it would be foolish to not take advantage of it. He even knew where to find a legendary follower, but that was a long and arduous journey away from now. He couldn’t get to her, let alone complete the quest needed to gain her loyalty. Numerous preparations would have to be made.
The pair walked in the door to the tailoring shop and Ian felt himself bump into a cloaked girl on the way out. Noticing the delicate skin and strands of shiny brown hair that peeked out from under the lip of her hood like the mirage of an oasis, he was momentarily stunned before shaking himself and proceeding into the store.
Though she seemed to be pretty, it was obvious that she was hiding her features for some reason. The cloak must have been special, because it merely said [player] above her head, instead of the typical name and level. For instance, most of the players in this area were in the 45-50 range. He wasn’t one to pry if he could help it.
Once the two were in front of the tailoring trainer, which turned out to be a well-dressed, wiry old man with crude spectacles and and a kempt beard, Ian greeted him with a smile and asked, “Tailor, I’d like to take up your profession, please.” The trainer paid little attention to him, however, still busily stitching a seam on a vest that looked like it was going to be used in a traditional Brinane wedding.
Ian and Marcus waited patiently for a few minutes until the shopkeeper finally sighed and put down his needle. Peering over his glasses at the young man, he said, “If you want to learn this line of work, you need to have steady hands and a discerning eye. Do you think you are to the task, elf? I’ve heard tale of your predecessors who blew themselves up because they mishandled spells that were beyond them. At the higher levels of tailoring, handling spellwork and weaving it into cloth is a big deal, so you need to be sure.”
Ian smirked in amusement. “I can handle it. I am not them.”
The tailoring trainer seemed uninterested in his assurances, speaking while holding out a hand, “That’ll be 10 copper, then.”
The high elf player nodded and looked at the prompt that displayed to him.
[Do you wish to learn Tailoring as your first profession? It costs 10 copper to learn.]
[Accept]
[Decline]
“What the hell?” He looked at the unavailable “accept” option and was momentarily surprised before quickly checking his currency counter through his inventory.
0c 0s 0g
“What the fuck!” he exclaimed. There should have been 50 copper there.
The tailor wagged his hand at him. “What, you can’t even take out 10 copper? Hurry up, I don’t have all day to mess around ya know.”
Ian grit his teeth as he thought of the hooded girl. She was the only one who had gotten close enough to him besides Marcus to trigger a Pickpocket skill. To do that to a new player... She obviously new that he wouldn’t have much money on him. She must have done it just to fuck with him.
Just wait, you've earned yourself a negative level in the future.
He turned to look at the Templar and asked, “Can I borrow 50 copper?”
Marcus looked back at him bemused, “That bottle was the last of my wealth, little lord. I go out and hunt whenever I run out.” The eat shit grin on his face was repulsive.
Ian ground his teeth together and then looked back at the tailor. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. It seems I’ve been pickpocketed on my way in here.”
The wiry old man snorted and turned back to his project. “If you want the profession, bring the coin.”
“I’ll do that.” Ian turned around and Marcus followed after with a huge smile on his face.
Once they were outside, Ian turned to the templar and said, “Well, that kills my plan to get my first two professions before we go out. Let’s go hunt, but before that I need those proficiencies and spells.”
This wiped the grin from the large man’s face. He begrudgingly imparted all of the knowledge that Ian was looking for, going into small demonstrations right there on the street. Some of the players stopped to watch, but were unable to tell how high the follower was and merely snickered at the sight of a noob getting skills that he was destined to lose. Each secretly hoped he put skill points into them, which would be a complete waste once he hit level 10.
Skills in Turen were all on a ranking system that was governed by level requirements. For example, when Ian learns [Blessing of Intelligence] a pair of parentheses will appear next to the skill which indicates (1/20), meaning that up to 20 points could be placed into the skill. However, he couldn’t just grind to level 20 and dump all his SP into it along the way. There would always be a few levels required before the next SP could be placed into [Blessing of Intelligence]. He would have to stagger his points between several skills as he levels up.
Active skills like [Blessing of Intelligence] were not the only type that players could put points towards, however. There were also Passive Skills which benefits certain scenarios, other skills, and weapons. In fact, lots of them had been designed to be paired with a few active skills and possess what gamers call “synergy.” The proficiencies that Marcus was teaching Ian at the moment were in fact passives that he could apply SP towards if he so chose.
The first level where a player can have a maxed out skill is level 80. This is also the last level where a level requirement will hinder a player from maxing out a skill. Many players grind as quickly as possible to that level merely so that they can finish out the build that they had envisioned for their character.
There was a lot of strategy that went into building a skillset. Some players opted to go for the highest level of a few skills, while others chose a diversified spread so that they could deal with a variety of mobs, players, and situations. There were benefits and trade-offs for every skill point spread.
For frame of reference, the highest level player in the game right now is 95 with 100 being the cap.
The last 10 levels were notorious for being extremely difficult to grind out, even with the help of dungeons or quests and their concentrated experience. This cap would be readjusted along with the difficulty of advancement when the next patch comes out, which is due in another 6 months. With what Ian knew, this would be plenty of time for him to catch up.
Taking another look at his follower, he smiled.
Marcus Hale lv. 75 Epic
Templar Follower
At the moment, Marcus’ level would be locked. Once followers agree to a contract, they stay at whatever level they’re at until the player can catch up to them. When Ian did that, he would then start to level alongside him, growing in experience as Ian continued to level.
There’s always a cost, however. Perhaps because the system AI anticipated players abusing high level followers, it applied an experience gain debuff on the player that amounted to the difference in level between the player and follower. Ian was currently receiving -74% experience from mobs while the templar was around. In other words, he had to kill 4 times as many mobs to get the same amount of experience as any other random player at level 1.
Marcus soon finished teaching Ian the requested skills and proficiencies and several prompts filled his vision.
[You have learned Dagger Proficiency( 1/20)]
[You have learned Sword Proficiency (1/20)]
[You have learned Stave Proficiency (1/20)]
[You have learned the Skill [Blessing of Intelligence (1/20)]]
[You have learned the Skill [Healing Light (1/20)]]
Dagger Proficiency (1/20)
*Gain 1% hit chance and .5% critical hit chance per level*
Current: (1%) hit chance
(.5%) critical hit chance
Sword Proficiency (1/20)
*Gain 1% hit chance and .5% critical hit chance per level*
Current: (1%) hit chance
(.5%) critical hit chance
Stave Proficiency (1/20)
*Gain 1% hit chance and .5% critical hit chance per level*
Current: (1%) hit chance
(.5%) critical hit chance
[Blessing of Intelligence (1/20)]
*Buffs the target for 1 hour, adding 1% Intelligence per level*
Current: (1%)
Cost: 10% of base mana
[Healing Light (1/20)]
*Heals friendly target for 50 + (.3*SP) hp. Initial value scales with subsequent levels.*
Cast time: 1.5 seconds
Mana Cost: 20% base mana
Ian smiled happily for the first time since reaching Turen.
Just like that, he’d picked up 3 Passive Skills and 2 Actives for free. Normally, players would have to pay that 1 skillpoint just to learn the skill in the first place, so he’d received 5 levels worth of skill points right off the bat with no cost to himself.
That’s one additional thing to mention. Skill points could be earned outside of just leveling. The quest that Marcus gave Ian earlier was a perfect example of that. Certain quests would often offer additional skill points. Players absolutely loved these quests and actively looked for them in the world. The grand majority were not unique questlines like the templar’s either, so all players could go and do them for the rewards.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Feeling that his day was finally looking up, Ian motioned to the templar and they both walked out of the gate to begin grinding.
***
Ian grimaced while fending off an attacking mob.
Tundra Boar lvl. 8
Health: 212/280
He himself was only level two. The boar glared back at him with hate-filled eyes, crusted snot mixed with ice crackling with every heated breath through its snout. The creature was very shaggy, possessing a mane of black and white from age that bulged outwards like an ugly coat from one of those fashion designers in the early 21st century.
The two circled each other and the boar suddenly charged back in, seeking to skewer Ian on his gory tusks. Dancing out of the way at the last second, Ian scored a hit on the cranium of the boar with his staff which made it squeal with bloody rage.
-3 damage (Critical hit!)
“Hahahaha... your turn, Marcus,” Ian laughed deprecatingly. The level difference coupled with his shitty white staff resulted in horribly depressing damage. The boar stopped a few meters away and started to rub its head on the ground, like he’d just gotten a headache, or an itch.
Ever heard of adding insult to injury, you bastard!
Ian shook his head mentally. While it was definitely faster to level with Marcus, he still had to deal 25% of the damage to the mob for it to give him 100% of the possible experience that he could gain. He’d need better gear as soon as possible, or else this would be extraordinarily painful.
The templar, who looked supremely bored, stepped forward from where he’d been watching off to the side and unsheathed his sword and shield, which they’d retrieved on their way out of town. Since Ian held 100% of the aggro, and no lvl 8 creature would logically attack a level 75, Marcus had to step in the creature’s path as it charged again, choosing to bash it with his shield in a gigantic backhand that stirred up the snow in an arc in front of him.
It was a home run. With a vicious crack of the neck, the bashed boar was flung backwards, soaring in a straight line until it smacked against a large tree that was in its flight path. It fell down lifelessly to the great gray roots below, tumbling until it finally rested in the snow beneath the barren tree. Blood oozed from all of its orifices, dying the snow around it.
-1,254 damage (Critical hit!)
-312 damage (Environmental)
[Lvl 8 Tundra Boar died!]
With the death of the boar, a large pulse of energy rained down from the heavens, completely encircling the novice standing nearby. The light was warm and radiant, sending shockwaves into the surrounds and disturbing the birds on the nearby trees. The heat was more than welcome in this cold northern environment.
[You have leveled up!]
[You are now level 3]
[You have 5 unspent attribute points]
[You have 3 unspent skill points]
Navigating to his character panel, he quickly assigned his attribute points.
Name: Anarch
Race: High Elf
Level: 3
HP: 120 MP: 170
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Vitality: 12
Intelligence: 16 + 1
Wisdom: 12
Spell Hit: 86.75% (against lvl 3 mobs)
Spell Power: 17
Crit Chance: 5.17%
Unspent Skill Points: 3
Active:
Racial: Innervate
Blessing of Intelligence (1/20)
Healing Light (1/20)
Passive:
Dagger Proficiency (1/20)
Sword Proficiency (1/20)
Stave Proficiency (1/20)
None
Right now, he was assigning his attribute points in a 1/3/1 spread to vitality, intelligence, and wisdom, respectively. This was the best possible assignment in his mind because it constantly increased his HP, MP, spell critical, spell hit, spell power, and mana regen. All were vital pieces of the mage class that he was going for. He was also holding on to his skill points until level 10 and the quest for the hidden class was unlocked.
Turning to the templar who was dragging the dead boar over, Ian asked, “Do you need me to throw you a heal there, Marcus?”
The gigantic man deadpanned. “I think I’m alright.”
“You sure? I think I see a scratch there…” Ian hummed, his face full of schadenfreude. “Let me get that for you.” Before the templar could say anything, Ian cast a Healing Light on him.
[You have healed Marcus Hale for 0 HP! (55 overheal)]
“Ah damn, you were right.”
Marcus shook his head before chuckling slightly. “Fuck off, kid.”
Ian suddenly stopped and stared back at him annoyedly. “Let’s get something straight here. You keep referring to my age like you think I’m a pre-teen... I’m actually 26, sir, and a grown man. You’re what… 32, 33? I don’t want to hear from you.”
“No way!” the templar scoffed. “What twenty-something year old would still be in single digit levels?” He stopped and looked at him strangely, “Or look so… delicate?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. And did you forget that I’m a Traveler? A high elf? I just came to your world, so of course my level is going to be low,” Ian replied. The templar finally came to halt in front of him with the giant boar and Ian swiftly moved to collect the drops, borrowing Marcus’ sword to chop off the tusks.
[You have picked up (2) Tundra Boar tusks!]
Ian grumbled while looking at the corpse. If he was an alchemist, he could collect the blood. If he was a skinner, he could collect the hide. If he had herb gathering, he could pick that Iceblood Vine over there, but no… no, that bitch had pickpocketed him back inside city limits and fucked his first grinding session. A vengeful gleam entered his eye.
Just wait, you’ve now earned yourself two levels of lost experience!
Turning back to the templar, he finally allowed himself to say the words, “Let’s go back and cash in all this crap.”
Looking at his solitary backpack bag that was crammed full, he felt a little bit better at least. Each of the tusks could vendor for 15 copper a piece, and he had had twelve stacks of 5 to make up a total of 60 tusks. That would net him 9 silver, which would be plenty to secure his first two professions and a new bag or two.
Currency in the world was pretty simple.
100 copper = 1 silver
100 silver = 1 gold
100 gold = 1 platinum
However, at this expansion, there actually wasn’t any platinum yet. That would be introduced in the next patch. Then, three patches from now, they’d introduce a new, higher currency type: crystal coins. These would be much harder to get, as they were equivalent to 1000 platinum coins. In any case, that was for the distant future. Players of the game today barely had a couple hundred gold, let alone enough to dream about 1000 platinum.
Just as the tusks disappeared into Ian’s inventory space, a small green gleam emitted from the boar, catching his eye. Nestled beneath its hulking body, was a softly glowing dagger.
Ian picked it up and brushed off the bits of hair and snow on its pommel.
Boar Sticker (dagger)
10 - 12 Damage
+3 Intelligence
Requires level 5
“Ah... praise be to Barath.” The 26-year-old looked skyward.
Marcus was cracking up off to the side. “It’s just a low leveled dagger. While I agree that you should praise the deity of light, what’s your problem?”
Ian looked back at him with a reprimanding expression. “Can I not be excited to ditch that fucking staff in the near future?”
The templar wiped away a tear. “I thought you were going to be a mage class though, judging by your staff and cloth gear.”
Ian nodded. “I am, but it’ll be very… different from the normal mage.” He cut his eyes at the staff in his hands and frowned, disgusted. “And it won’t involve wielding a fucking staff.”
“Always so secretive. I’m stuck with you for four months, ya know. It wouldn’t kill ya to give me a heads up,” Marcus replied gruffly, sliding his tower shield to his back and sheathing his sword.
“You’ll know in a few days,” Ian said simply while blowing warm air into his cupped hands.
Suddenly, a fierce rustling came from a nearby bush and the berry clad limbs parted, revealing a silvery version of the same type of boar that the pair had killed only a moment ago. Ian focused on the ethereal nameplate above its head and sucked in a cold breath.
Icetusk
Tundra Boar lvl. 9 Rare Leader
Health: 560/560
“Hurrhurr…” Ian smiled while a low, embarrassing chuckle escaping from his chapped lips.
Leader class monsters were the same as chiefs for humanoid races. All leadership level mobs had increased drop percentage chances. If it were only a leader, Ian would at best hope for another green item. It being a “rare,” though, gave it a chance of dropping a rare blue piece of gear.
He licked his lips before charging towards the new mob, almost as if he were afraid that somebody would show up and take it from him.
Beady eyes gazed back, taking in the sight of its fallen brother, and the look finally morphed into one of rage from initial confusion. Striking at the ground with a hoof, the boar reared and then rocketed forward, pointing its fierce, 3 feet long serrated tusks at the charging player.
Creating a small burst of snow, Ian launched himself upwards, barely skimming the tusks as the boar wrenched them upwards in a bid to gouge a piece of flesh from him. Using a hand that was just above the boar’s head, he furiously gripped at the silver mane, causing his body to suddenly flip and come down onto its back, right where he wanted.
Riding the beast like a smaller version of a bucking bronco, Ian desperately help on by squeezing his legs and his fur-filled right hand with all of his strength, all the while raining down blows on its head.
-2, -2, -1, -2….
Blow after blow, buck after buck, Ian felt himself coming loose from his perch. After whittling away 50 hp from the beast, he finally couldn’t hang on anymore and pushed off as hard as he could, falling into the grassy snow that lightly burned on his exposed arms.
Whirling around, the boar fixed its gaze on him once again and charged with reckless abandon. Ian’s eyes searched the surroundings and alighted on a tree that was right behind. It had two low-hanging branches and an idea sprouted in his mind.
Scrambling to his feet, he positioned himself in front of the tree and watched the boar melt the distance between them. 15 feet. 10 feet. 5 feet. With a flourish, he placed his staff on top of the two branches, using it like a bar to swing his body upwards and narrowly avoiding the serrated tusks.
The dull sound of something sharp meeting a solid tree rang forth and Ian looked down to find that the boar had momentarily gotten stuck in the bark from the combined efforts of its charge and sharp tusks. Dropping back down, he continued hammering on it with all his might.
Eventually, his Crude Staff splintered, cracking into two pieces, but still he continued raining down blows on the creature’s head while its shoulder muscles strained to pull its head away from the tree.
After 2 minutes, Ian finally reached the 75% hp mark on the mob and backed up tiredly. Turning to Marcus, he pleaded wearily, “Marcus?”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” The templar moved forward and took out his sword, neatly drawing a dull red line across the beast’s neck.
-250 damage (Icetusk begins bleeding for 10% of its hp/sec!)
-58 damage
-58 damage
-58 damage
[Icetusk has been slain!]
Ian focused to the bottom of his vision and blanked as he found that it was already 48% of the way to the next level. One rare lv. 9 leader mob was enough for half of a level. That was huge. Remember, he was still suffering from a -72% experience debuff.
Leveling was not easy. He and Marcus had already hunted over 30 boars that were in the 7-8 level range, which netted him a multiplicative bonus of 600-700% to experience gain based on the difference in level. This was about as high as he could go because the system limited him from getting any experience if the killed mob was over 10 levels above him - not that he could damage the thing by then. Or even hit it.
Here, those boars were only enough to get him two levels in as many hours. It could be understood how arduous it would be to level on one’s own and why even the best players of the game weren’t max level yet.
All of the weariness suddenly left his body like it’d never been there, replaced instead by vigor as he greedily eyed the corpse. Approaching near, he sawed off the two husks and then rolled over the corpse to find a beautiful, indescribably awesome blue light emanating from the item.
However that moment of glee didn’t last.
[You have picked up (2) Tundra Boar tusks!]
[You have picked up Icetusk Leggings!]
Icetusk Leggings (Mail)
75 Armor
+5 Vitality
+7 Strength
Requires level 10
Ian knelt down and cradled his head in his hands.
He couldn’t wear mail armor.
A few moments later, he silently stood up and began walking towards town while thinking quietly to himself, Damn you, Barath!