Chapter 28: Swordsman

TRISTAN

Tristan waited as Cherry knocked loudly on the Master’s door. She had told him way too much--most of it way too personal--about the man who was to be his teacher. Now they were following one of the most important rules of the house, “Always knock before entering a room you suspect Jamal to be in.” She’d had such a serious look on her face when she’d said it that Tristan didn’t doubt her sincerity at all; he just wondered why it was so necessary.

Still, they waited, and after a little while, a man’s voice called for them to enter.

Cherry opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Tristan to walk in first.

Within was a mostly open space cleverly divided into separate sitting areas by the many chairs, couches, lounges, and two enormous beds. Tristan couldn't imagine a room more devoted to relaxing.

Resting comfortably on one of the couches, covered with blankets and a girl on either side of him, was a tall, dark-skinned, shirtless, and very muscular man. He raised a hand, beckoning Tristan over, while with his words he asked, “Daphne, will you be a peach and get us some refreshments?” When the girl gave a little pout, the man teased, “Don’t worry, I'll have more time for both of you after.”

Tristan recognized the girl’s name, and sure enough he made the connection the moment she rose from the bed, adjusting the blanket draped around her. She’d been his server from The Agora. She seemed very careful not to make eye contact with him on her way out of the room.

The man pointed to the nearest chair. “You're Tristan, right? Soon to be my student--my only student. Well take a seat, man. Tell me more about the son of Marrik freaking Hammerson. Also, how old are you? Can you drink? Do you want to drink? What about food? I'm a shit host most of the time. Just let me know what I can do.”

Tristan tried to unpack all of what the man had said, before opening with, “I'm not... old enough. And no food right now, thanks. But, yes, I’m Tristan. What should I call you, sir?”

His finger spiraled in the air a moment before making its way to his temple. “Oh, yeah alright, introductions. I'm Jamal, probably the greatest of the mortal swordsmen, and in the morning, you’ll start becoming one of the greatest students ever. Hooray. But for tonight, well, tonight I'm already in a very good place, and I've got some very nice friends over, as you can see.” He turned to the other girl. “This is Margot, by the way, and she's great. A rising star at The Agora, too. Very discreet, so you can say anything around her. Pretend she's not even here if you like--though that would be much less fun.”

“We're going to start tomorrow?” Tristan couldn’t help but be excited about how quickly they’d begin. Even if he was still struggling to take in the man's persona and connect it to the stories he knew.

“That's what I said, isn't it?” He looked at the girl, Margot. “I did say that, right?”

She smiled at him. “You did. He's just very young and probably very intimidated.” She tilted her head. “Nice sword though.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jamal said. “Though it’s a bit long, and he's carrying it across his back. Who even does that these days? And it's sheathed. It's totally inaccessible if he needs it quickly, which he always will.” He paused, examining the boy further. “He's got a good build, carries himself well. Only level 11; I can work with that. Well, assuming he tells me something interesting about himself. Right now he's just a bloke I had to [Identify]. I hate the idea of teaching a stranger, wouldn't you, Margot?”

The girl laughed as she stretched her legs toward Jamal under the blanket, resting hers on his. “I think you're good enough to overlook it,” she said.

Jamal sat up slightly and stared at Tristan for a few moments, taking him in, before smiling in acknowledgement at the woman next to him. He lifted the blanket from her bare leg, and began walking his fingers down it. When he got to her knee, he said, “You know, you're not wrong. I am that good.” He lifted her leg and kissed it. “So, Tristan, are you gonna talk or am I going to have Cherry show you to her room so we can both get a good night's rest before the real shit starts tomorrow?”

Tristan didn't know what to say. He'd never really been one to talk much about himself--He'd never seen the need. But he had been thinking about it more, reflecting on his plan and his Path.

“Currently I’m just a swordsmith, but I want to be more than that,” he said. “I love crafting. But I also want to use the things I make to make the world a better place. Right now I'm trying to keep both parts of myself happy, but at times it feels like I'm not balanced properly. I need to learn not only how to make something like this,” he said, removing the sword from his back, “but how to use it. How to use it well.”

Tristan felt Jamal's eyes piercing through him. The man hadn't even blinked the whole time Tristan had been talking. Now, though, he leaned forward.

“Yeah, I hear all that, but it doesn't tell me what I need to know. Why me, kid? Why’d your father come to me? Why did your mum, of all people, let him?”

Tristan didn't know exactly what the swordmaster was asking, but he thought he knew how to answer.

He set his sword carefully on the ground, and he stripped off his shirt. The scar in the center of his chest was as vibrant and clear as the day it had appeared.

“I watched the Brightshield die. That's how I got this.” He said, touching the scar. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice firm. “And I want to track down and kill every one of the people responsible.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he got a new notification.

[Path Quest unlocked: Avenge the Brightshield]

Find and deal with each member of the party that killed Hesden Brightshield. Targets’ locations will be provided when you are in the same zone. Remaining targets:

Curse

Red Blade

Shadow

Timetwister

Venom

As your targets are higher tier than you, you will be shielded from their detection until you reveal yourself or attack.

Additional objectives may be unlocked.

Rewards: Achievement, Smart Loot

Tristan's mouth went dry at seeing his deepest wish made manifest. It suddenly felt much more attainable. Though it sat beside another quest he still wasn't ready to even consider. Gods-damned oozes.

Meanwhile, Jamal leaned back again, resting his head in one hand as he whistled. “Yep, that'd do it. And you just got a quest notification, didn’t you?” He grinned at Tristan knowingly. “I saw that glossy look. Was it a good one? How big was it?”

But even as Tristan tried to answer, “It’s a... a Path quest,” the shirtless man was already moving on.

Jamal delicately slid the blanket back over Margot’s leg. His voice grew even more playful as he asked, “Is it weird I got super excited when he took his shirt off and saw that scar? No? Good. Yeah, I think I like this kid. Hope he’s worthy of it.”

Just then, Daphne returned with a tray of tall, clear, and very full glasses.

“Bring all of those over here,” Jamal called, patting the couch beside him. “I need to get wasted tonight to be ready for the shit I'm going to have to do to him tomorrow.”

Tristan, meanwhile, pulled his shirt back on a bit uncomfortably and picked up his sword, though he didn't bother to sheath it.

How should I carry it?

“Cherry,” Jamal called, which caused the redheaded girl to step forward. “Take him to his room, please, and..." he paused. “Tristan, do you think you’ll want--? No, who are we kidding. Cherry, you just come back. And with several bottles from the cellar, if you would. Your choice. Anything you want to open.”

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Jamal’s attention was pulled away as Daphne sat down right beside him. She leaned in, whispered something to him, kissed him passionately on the lips, and then tilted the contents of one of the glasses into his waiting mouth.

“Cheers,” Tristan heard them both saying.

Then Cherry's hand was on his forearm, which she'd somehow repositioned to interlock with hers, and suddenly they were walking out the door at a faster pace than when she'd escorted him in.

“Your room is this way,” she said, and Tristan thought he saw a wicked grin cross her face before she composed herself.

“Is he always like this?” Tristan asked.

“Gods no. I wish. I think your arrival has riled him up. So thanks for that!” She beamed at him. Then she whispered to herself, “I think tonight calls for Aliestra’s Temporally Aged. He'll never drink it otherwise.”

Tristan, for his part, just followed along until she deposited him in the biggest bedroom he'd ever seen, with a bed made of actual down. She showed him where the shower was, with a gentle, “Use it before getting into bed please.” Then she was gone.

Alone, and totally overwhelmed by the recent events, Tristan decided a hot shower sounded like the perfect way to unwind. Once he'd relaxed some, then maybe he could make some sort of plan for the next day.

His body had other plans, however, and the moment Tristan hit the bed after the most pleasant shower of his life, he fell instantly asleep.

- - - - -

Jamal stood beside Tristan with a wooden sword in one hand and a drink--complete with tiny paper umbrella--in the other. It was nearly noon, which according to Jamal was “bright and early,” and the swordmaster was single-handedly holding off Tristan's every attack, all without spilling a single drop.

“Have you never used this sword to fight a person before?” Jamal was asking, letting out a yawn. “Or even seen people fight with swords before?”

Tristan was struggling just to keep his sword level, since over the course of the last few minutes his arms had become one giant mass of welts. “Well I've had a few training bouts, but never any lessons or real fights. Other than oozes,” he said, spitting out the word. “I can learn fast though, I promise. I just haven't been offered swordsman yet.”

“I can tell,” Jamal replied, tapping Tristan’s next swing away with seemingly the slightest flick of his wrist. “And don't you dare accept that Class yet if it's offered. I need to see where you are now, before you get the skill boosts.”

Tristan came at him again, only to end up with another stinging welt on the back of his hand. “Should I change something up?”

“Obviously, and that’s why you’re here,” Jamal said with a sigh. “But sure, try something else. How would you attack me differently? Show me your ‘change up,’ and I’ll point out where you can improve.”

In the corner of his eye, a new notification popped up. But once he saw that it was the Secondary class offering, he knew to hide it for now. Afterward, Tristan began sweeping his sword side-to-side, like he had against the oozes at Sharing Cross. He kept the blade moving, trying to use the advantage of its longer reach to keep Jamal away.

“Three glaring issues right off the bat. One, positioning--though interesting stance.” The swordmaster raised one finger and began to backpedal, only to then spring forward faster than Tristan could prepare for.

Tristan winced as another finger popped up on his teacher’s hand.

“Two, reflexes and reactions.” Jamal took another sip of his drink.

Tristan moved forward, thinking to close the gap, but Jamal always remained just beyond his reach.

“Three, measure.” The swordmaster made a point of not needing to move for either of Tristan's next two swings, other than to lift a third finger up. “This might work against a crowd but..." He deftly slipped under the blade as it passed, moving back to where the swing had begun, and slammed his wooden sword into Tristan's shoulder. “You leave yourself ridiculously exposed here.”

The blow hurt so much that Tristan couldn't keep his grip on his sword, which thudded to the ground. He tried lifting it, but his shoulder screamed, and even the smallest move of his arm made it worse. Tristan refused to give up on the fight. He struggled to raise the massive sword with only his weak hand, before pointing it toward his teacher.

Jamal took a long, noisy sip from his drink. “By the gods man, don't do that. Not until you've got much higher Strength. Take a break for a second. This fight’s done, alright? We're going to start you at the very beginning. You're strong, for level 11, but you know practically nothing of the sword.” He exchanged his empty drink for another on the tray another girl, who Jamal had called Lauren, was holding. She was wearing a very well-fitted dress with a neckline so low it hid almost nothing, and she seemed more than a little amused by Tristan looking away whenever she noticed his attention.

“Alright, so I think it’s time to accept the Class now, and we can get started, yeah? You should have had it offered a bit ago.”

Tristan nodded as he clenched his jaw tightly from the mix of embarrassment and pain. “So, I just accept it...?”

“Unless you want to wait till I finish my drink,” Jamal said.

Tristan went into his notifications and found the one that had popped up the moment Jamal had agreed to offer him real instruction.

You may now take Swordsman as a Secondary Class. Accept?

Swordsman:

This Class provides a foundation upon which the many styles and traditions of sword use can be built. Swords offer the flexibility to focus on offense, defense, or a balance between them. New skills and upgrades will help you grow into an expert in the wielding of swords. Whether you turn them against your foes or use them to protect your allies is up to you.

Tristan smiled as he mentally answered Yes, and a silver glow pulsed outward from him, not entirely different from the golden level-ups. He even felt a similar rush as when he was granted new knowledge and skills.

Congratulations! You have taken your first Secondary Class.

You may only have two Secondary Classes, and they are limited to half the level of your Primary Class.

You have received your first combat Class. Level this Class by sparring, battling and defeating your foes.

You may designate an additional set of gear to switch between in combat (now 3). You may designate up to one weapon and one shield at a time to stow into magical storage when not equipped. You have gained magical storage for one unequipped weapon and shield.

Skills Gained:

[Cleaving Slash] An attack ability that lets the user make a wide area attack, potentially hitting multiple enemies within range of the blade. Damage scales with Strength. 30 second cooldown.

[Combat Reflexes] A passive ability that grants the user enhanced perception and other advantages while in battle, based on Agility and Wisdom.

[Piercing Thrust] An attack ability that lets the user make a focused attack against a single target, dealing extra damage the more heavily armored the target. Damage scales with Strength. 15 second cooldown.

This was the first time Tristan had gotten actual attack skills. They felt slightly different from all the other active skills he'd learned as a crafter. There was more immediacy and movement in them, and they were governed by cooldowns instead of processes, material costs, and durations.

These were combat skills; their intent was clear.

Then there was the upgrade to one of his natural skills, the one that let him change weapons in combat. Not that he'd used it before, but he’d been considering it, since it would make switching between his greatsword and his shield a lot easier. Apparently he could now designate two “sets” of gear beyond what he was wearing. His greatsword was already equipped, so it didn’t need marking. But with a thought, he marked his shield and longsword as their own set.

The moment he'd finished he felt like he got a bit lighter. He took a moment to switch sets, and immediately his greatsword was just gone, replaced by the sword and shield.

“Oh wow,” he said.

“Right? Take your time and feel it out,” Jamal said, sipping his drink.

Tristan switched back to his greatsword, placing his other weapons just out of reach. They're in magical storage, he knew, but this one felt radically different from his ore bag. They still felt right at his fingertips. Practically within his grasp. With a thought, they could be.

Yet as strange as that new sensation was, Tristan felt like he had changed the most with his new passive ability. He could tell that he had gained... He actually wasn't entirely sure what. Just that the sword in his hand now felt different, and that was somehow very important.

He took a few swings with his greatsword, and he could already feel that his form had improved.

“Better, right?” Jamal asked, putting another empty glass on Laura's tray before raising his wooden sword again. “Ready for round two?”

For the first time in Tristan’s life, he actually believed he might be.

As he pulled up his status and reflected on all he’d just gained, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, let’s do this!”

STATUS:

Tristan Hammerson

Human

L11 Swordsmith/1 Swordsman

Stats:

STR 38 (+3)

AGI 18

END 40 (+4)

INT 11

WIS 13

WYL 22

Core: [Soul-Forged] Items you craft replace a portion of the required materials with soul, are greatly enhanced, and become Soulbound. You may only use Soulbound items.

Titles: {Awakened}, {Fledgling Dungeon Delver}, {Soulscarred}

Skills: [Craft Armor], [Craft Shield], [Craft Tool], [Craft Weapon], [Gather Ore], [Identify], [Permanent Party], [Repair Item], [Sharpen Blade], [Work Metal]

Combat Skills: [Cleaving Slash], [Piercing Thrust]

Passives: [Born Blacksmith], [Combat Reflexes], [Endurance Up I], [Enhance Craft I], [Heat & Fire Resistance], [In a Hurry], [Strength Up I]