The next few weeks - and it was weeks before the runes were finally decoded - passed in a blur, as time well spent so often does. Each of the adventurers swiftly fell into a daily routine as they sought to fill their almost uncomfortably empty schedules, spending the majority of their time training and trading stories.
Damia, Vivi, and Lucy would meet for tea in the early hours of the morning, while Ferris and Lucas would head over to the ruins to help with mining and heavy lifting.
Monika and Jubel would spar, the half elf trying to learn as much from the swordswoman as he possibly could, and often being tossed around in the process, much to the amusement of the other adventurers - sans Vivi, who, after the third day, decided close by to heal the stubborn half elf in case he, say, broke a bone.
Again.
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Jubel had been training with Monika every morning he could since the first day they’d met, determined to match or even surpass the swordswoman’s skills.
He knew he was in for a rough time. Monika was lightning quick, and while she was more than happy to show him the movements and exercises she used to train, she refused to hold back while sparring, claiming it would only lead him to develop poor habits and hinder his growth.
The rather predictable result was a series of aches, scrapes and bruises that left him consistently sore and exhausted. Some days he felt like he’d torn muscles he didn’t even know he had, so when he found his foot a bit tender on the evening of his fifth day back in Twinwater, he didn’t really think anything of it. That changed rather quickly when he woke up the next morning and tried to stand up.
His scream of agony sent Vivi rushing into his room, only to gasp in horror at what she found.
Jubel’s left foot had swollen to nearly double its usual size, and was a nasty purple color. She didn’t even need to cast a diagnostic spell to know what had happened; he’d broken a bone in his foot.
“Hold still,” Vivi insisted, inspecting the wounded appendage while Jubel fidgeted, trying not to wince.
“Really, it’s fine,” he insisted, adjusting himself on the bed.
“You want a limp that lasts the next decade or more? Because you just might end up with one if this isn’t treated!” The elf snapped at her patient. “Now hold still. I have to set the bone before I go trying to fix this.”
“Why?”
Vivi frowned, trying to find the right words to describe the issue. The magic she used to keep her friends alive wasn’t nearly as much of a catch all as most non-adventurers believed. True, divine magic was self correcting to a point, but that was because the power behind the spell came from a conscious, nearly omnipotent being.
For healers like her, who, in spite of their prayers, remained unblessed, the process was more complex.
“Healing magic doesn’t just fix everything,” the elf said as she cast a spell to identify which bones were damaged. “It just.. does its best to mend what’s broken. If something has a hole in it, that’s easy. But if it’s in two parts?” She shook her head.
“Best case scenario, healing an unset bone ends with a deformed, and usually painful, end result. But it’s a clean enough break, both ends of the bone try to act like they’re the only parts left, and grow the entire rest of the bone. The results aren’t pretty.” She’d seen case studies of people who’d gone to unaccredited healers when she attended school in Milassi a few decades back. She calmly described one such case as she worked, idly noting the way the blood drained from the half elf’s face as she spoke, going into great detail about the horrific pain he went through as a result.
“So… d-did the guy get a new arm, or…” he trailed off as she finished both her tale and her spell.
“A prosthetic,” she said sadly. “Only way to regrow a limb that badly mangled would be magic on par with a Hero ranked adventurer - things like Regenerate or the legendary Perfect Heal - and the only people able to cast spells like that charge a king’s ransom for the service.”
“Maybe I should learn those, then,” Jubel said thoughtfully.
His words made the elf freeze. Slowly, she looked back up to him. “What?”
“I should learn those spells,” he said, a vague idea forming in his mind as he spoke. There was a hint of steel in his gaze as his eyes met hers. “Yeah, I’ll learn how to cast - what was it called? Perfect Heal? Then, I’ll go around and heal people who’ve lost limbs or gotten rare diseases. For free. Or maybe for like… a meal. Unless that spell cures starvation, too, I’ll probably still need to eat, after all. But I mean… if there’s a tool out there that can fix these horrible problems, and people are just… choosing not to use it because the people suffering are poor? That’s just a dick move, and someone should do something about it. So why not me?”
Vivi was a trained healer, having spent half a decade training to earn a degree in Support Magics from the University of Magical Arts in Milassi. She’d met dozens of people who’d said similar things during her time at the school…and did her best to dissuade each and every one of them. The most dedicated healers in history rarely ever reached such heights, and even when they did, it was usually after centuries of dedicated effort. The idea that the man before her could master such a spell while studying swordsmanship and pursuing a life of adventure was naive, arrogant, and all around ludicrous. And yet…
“That’s a wonderful idea,” she said quietly, a small smile gracing her lips as she returned to the task at hand. “Now, brace yourself! This is going to hurt.”
She’d jolted the bone back into place before she’d gotten halfway through saying ‘going’, and ten minutes later, the half elf was walking like nothing had ever happened.
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Vivi would spend most of her time writing songs or painting in her room when the others were busy, but ended up spending a surprising amount of time as Jubel’s music instructor. He had a good voice, she found, but no training at all, and she planned to make up for lost time. She also decided to teach him a bit of healing magic - for no reason in particular.
In the afternoons, Lucy joined the boys at the ruins to ‘keep watch’, though she seemed to spend more time watching Lucas than looking for potential threats. He didn’t mind too much; it was actually pretty flattering, and for as distracted as she might seem, she still managed to catch the few dangerous animals bold enough to approach the ruins.
Incidentally, Izzy also went to the ruins every day - only to be repeatedly caught by a progressively more exasperated Lucy.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
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The vicious beast towered over the tiny hawkbear, snarling. It took a single step towards the fearless cub, its fangs dripping with venom, and opened its maw-
For the last time, as an arrow pinned the now dying snake to a tree.
“Izzyyyyyyyyy,” Lucy drawled, exhaustion clear in her voice, “you gotta stooooooop.” The elf darted through the small clearing and scoop up the cheerfully squawking cub. “Yes, yes, you’re adorable,” the archer said dryly. “You’re also supposed to be with Minerva right now! Does your mom know you’re out in the middle of monster infested woods?” She raised an eyebrow as the hawkbear did its best to give her puppy dog eyes.
“I thought not,” she muttered. “This is the third time this week, you precocious little fluff ball! You’re gonna get hurt!
Izzy would’ve pouted petulantly, but sadly, beaks don’t work that way. Lucy got the point anyway though.
“Y’know,” the sly elf said as she carried the cub back to its guardian, “Lucas was saying something about getting you some more honey treats. I wonder if he’ll still want to if he finds out you’ve been ignoring your mom’s rules again? I certainly wouldn’t.”
The young hawkbear squirmed, screeching in protest.
“Then stay put this time,” Lucy said firmly. “We’ll come play with you after we finish working for the day. There’s plenty of adventure to be found inside the town walls, I promise you. I know! There’s like, a dozen little squirts in town with nothing to do! I bet you can find at least a few kids to play with. How about that?” The hawkbear squawked indignantly, eliciting a laugh from the elf.
“Yeah, that’s what I usually think of kids too, but it’s a lot more fun than doing nothing, right?”
Izzy had to admit, Pretty Lady had a point there. Reluctantly, the hawkbear decided to amuse herself by chasing the tiny humans until Big Wolf got back from his boring ‘work’.
He’d better have treats for her, though!
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When the elves left the inn, Damaia would join Aiden at his workshop, keeping an eye on Boblin and helping her fellow engineer with his projects in exchange for the space to finish hers. With her startlingly keen insight and piercing gaze, the number of explosions and smoke clouds coming from the workshop’s direction decreased significantly, much to the heartfelt appreciation of everyone other than the aforementioned goblin. She even got a few of her friends to help from time to time!
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Damaia smiled and hummed as she polished her armor. The full plate she’d taken down into the sewer Dungeon had suffered a few scrapes here and there, but by and large, it had managed to survive a shocking amount of punishment. More importantly - at least to her - the upgrades she’d integrated into the suit had proved themselves to be effective, reliable, and durable.
But what sort of inventor settles for success when they could have innovation? So she was updating, upgrading, and repurposing a few of her latest gadgets in an effort to make her armor the most advanced piece of equipment in the country, completely ignorant to the fact that it probably already was.
High power pistons, retractable spikes, and a small electrical charge made her gauntlets deadly… deterrents. She didn’t like to think of them as weapons. She was, of course, willing to use force to protect herself, but she couldn’t shake her father’s words from head.
“A tool’s just a tool until it’s used, but no matter how many soups you stir with it, a wrench will never be a spoon.”
An odd phrase, to be sure, but one whose meaning she’d never forgotten; each tool has a purpose. At the end of the day, a weapon was a tool designed to kill. Sure, sometimes violence proved necessary but still… it made her uncomfortable.
“3 dozen Healing potions, bottled and tested,” she reflexively called over her shoulder as she heard the back door to the shop close.
“Ah, thank ye kindly,” Aiden said, sounding equal parts grateful and exhausted. “I’ve been up working on a few new gizmos an’ gadgets since sunset, an’ I hadn’t realized jus’ how long it’d been until the sun went and rose back up again!”
“I can tell,” she said as she added a carefully designed chemical treatment to the battle suit that was once simple plate mail. “Your accent gets extra crazy when you're tired.”
“Yer accent’s the crazy one yeh- oh shite, I see what ye mean.” The felblood chuckled as the heat left her fellow inventor’s voice as quickly as it arrived.
“Staying up so late is bad for you,” she advised hypocritically, hiding the stack of teacups next to her workbench with a conveniently placed cloth cover. She’d been up for nearly 36 hours herself, but she didn’t think that was all that important. Besides, this was how she functioned best, so it was fine! The idea that Aiden might also function at his best while half crazed from sleep deprivation didn’t occur to her until she took a nap several hours later.
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll listen to that around the same time Boblin stops blowing up half the damn shop every week. Speaking of which, where is -”
A loud bang cut the exhausted alchemist off as a soot covered goblin flew through the air and crashed into the man that had just opened the door to the shop, sending both of them sprawling.
“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Niko muttered as he picked himself up off the ground.
“He really needs to stop meeting anyone like that,” Aiden corrected bitterly. His patience with his assistant tended to be inversely proportional to the amount of sleep he’d had in the last 24 hours. “What did you blow up now?”
“I didn’t!” the goblins said excitedly, scrambling back into the shop. “I finished a prototype! The FarLauncher Mk 1 is a big success, as are the impact dampening runes I put on this helmet!” He knocked hard against the rusty iron helm he had strapped to his head, making a shockingly loud noise in the process. “See?!” he said excitedly. “No harm to me - the impact force is redistributed as vibrations in the air around me!”
“Doesn’t that mean a heavy hit to the head would deafen you, possibly permanently?” Damaia asked curiously.
“What was that? I can’t quite hear you.”
Aiden sighed, burying his face in his hands.
“What’s up, Niko?” Damaia asked as he walked over to her.
“That’s what I was gonna ask,” he shot back with a confused frown. “Lucy said you could use my help with making some sort of weapon?”
“Deterrent,” she corrected distractedly.
“Is it going to explode?”
“...yes.”
“Then it’s either a weapon, or fireworks,” the pyromancer concluded dryly, drawing a pout from the engineer. “Now, how can Niko Driftwood, inferno extraordinaire, be of service to you?”
Damaia absently scratched at one horn as she rolled out her latest blueprint. “I need you to try to simulate something like this.”
The pyromancer smirked. “Let’s take this outside, then,” he said eagerly. “Don’t wanna burn down the best potion place in town while we work on fine tuning the range on this thing, right?”
The compliment went to Aiden’s head almost immediately - so much so that he didn’t even realize the implications of what the mage had said until he heard the explosions from behind his shop.
All said and done, the handful of weeks that passed while the scholar worked on deciphering the ancient runes were … eventful, to say the least.
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Three and a half weeks after Valorous returned to Twinwater, it happened.
The adventurers of both teams were sitting around a large table, finishing a sizable, if somewhat late, dinner, when the sounds of distant, excited shouting drew their attention.
Zen Zephyrson, the mysterious scholar, darted through the doors of the Winding Path and slammed a scroll case down on the largest table in the inn. He was practically vibrating from excitement.
“I don’t suppose,” he asked breathlessly as the adventurers stared at him expectantly, “that you might be interested in plundering a Dungeon?”
The teams shared a look. It seemed their vacation was at an end.