Topher practically stomped back to Tok's wagon, feeling sore and irate; he hadn't enjoyed getting thrown around, but it had definitely been a motivating encounter. He came upon the dwarf engaged in conversation with another dwarf, who looked very strange to Topher -- he had his head shaved on both sides, with a long strip of hair like a horse's mane in the middle that was tightly braided and held in place with bejeweled silver clasps. Rather than armor, the dwarf wore a sort of shirt made out of tough fabric and pants of silk, with a massive codpiece and high leather boots; a black cloak, with the hood thrown back, completed the ensemble, and the dwarf held a large mace longer than he was tall with a huge gemstone at the end, rather than a metal head. Must be pretty high-Level.

Tok and the other dwarf were muttering back and forth to each other in a conversation Topher could only barely hear, but even then couldn't understand at all; it seemed to be full of weird syllables like Zash and Kek and Grask. With a start, he realized they were probably speaking the Dwarven language -- I guess the Summoning Spell doesn't translate all languages after all. Maybe only the common languages? Feeling like a third wheel, he shuffled around both of them and sat on the back of the wagon, twiddling his thumbs. I wonder if I can get in trouble for casting Priest spells? Didn't seem like anybody noticed when I cast Remove Fatigue on myself earlier. Cautiously and surreptitiously, he cast Create Food and Drink to conjure up some more coffee and a half-loaf of sourdough bread (Tok's favorite combination) as a half-apology for wandering off, then set them down unobtrusively next to him in the bed of the wagon. He was abruptly startled by the other dwarf waving at him; he blinked, then cautiously waved back. "Uh, hello?"

"I was askin', whatcha got there?"

"Oh. I just made some food -- thought Tok might be hungry." Topher felt vaguely embarrassed for some reason. "I could make some more for you?"

"Aye, if ye don't mind. Was just tellin' Rockbrand here that all the good restaurants are on the other side of the city now; somethin' to do with the new hellbeast meat one of the deep-delver groups have been bringin' up. Not bad, but a little gamey to a dwarf palate." The other dwarf smiled; his beard was reddish-brown, and split into two great braids that curled up and over his shoulders, then came back down around his waist where they were joined back together by a carved silver clasp.

"No bother at all." Topher concentrated, producing a second serving of coffee and bread. He handed them over to the other dwarf a little nervously; he hoped he wasn't about to find out that his food actually sucked and that Tok had just been humoring him. The other dwarf took a surprisingly small bite of the bread, then washed it down with a sip of the coffee; like Tok, his reaction was a stare, followed by several successive sips and smacking of lips. "By Hogzar's Beard, that's good! What is it called?"

"Coffee. I tasted some made by an Otherworlder once." Topher didn't feel like this was, precisely, a lie; he had in fact been in a Starbucks fairly often in his previous life.

The dwarf nibbled his bread and sipped his coffee much more delicately than Topher had expected; maybe his stereotypes about dwarves were not only racially insensitive, but also incorrect. "Well, I don't know if I hold truck with beverages from other dimensions as a general rule, but this Ko-hey drink is very much somethin' else!" He drained his cup and let out a sigh of contentment. "I'd pay for a meal like that on a regular basis, I don't mind tellin' ya."

"Really?" Topher was suddenly paying quite a bit more attention. "How much?" If I could sell coffee for a gold, and spent all my MP casting Create Food and Drink, I could make 36 GP a day. That's enough to pay for an inn room, maybe start building up to new spells...

"Oh, a silver at least, I'd expect," the other dwarf rumbled. "Quite good! Does it go well with meat?"

Topher's hopes sank. Even if he spent his entire MP pool creating coffee each day, that still wouldn't be enough to pay for even the cheapest inn room in Wanbourne. He sighed. "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

"Topher," said Tok, cutting in, "Brox here and I have some other business to attend to -- a delivery here in town. Brox is..." -- Tok hesitated -- "...a friend, and is going to escort me to the client. You mind going to the inn a bit early? Can't really leave you in charge of the stand." His mouth quirked under his beard in what might have been a grimace. "Merchant's Guild rules. I'll close up here."

"No problem." Topher hopped off the back of the wagon, nodding to Brox (who was a half-head taller than Tok, which made him come up almost to Topher's mid-chest). "Nice to meet you, Brox."

"Likewise, human Topher!" Brox's smile broadened into a grin, revealing a mouth that probably required heavy insurance; every third tooth was either made of gold or a gemstone. "Be seeing you."

As Topher watched, Tok collapsed his stand, transferred all the remaining goods back to the wagon, and produced a particularly heavy-looking iron pot that he handed to Brox; the other dwarf took it as though it weighed nothing. Tok drove the wagon away to stable the horse and secure all the remaining items at the inn, leaving Topher alone with Brox; there was a brief, awkward silence before Topher cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "So. You guys know each other?"

"Aye. We trade every time Tok's in town." The other dwarf grinned at something Topher didn't understand. "No, never miss a chance for that."

"Particular goods you need?" Topher hazarded.

"Oh aye, very much so. Tok Rockbrand is quite the reliable purveyor, and no mistake." The other dwarf winked, but Topher had no idea what he was trying to communicate. "Very brave. Coming to Wanbourne at that Level? A credit to the clan, I say."

Topher chuckled. "I'm Level 10, and I was 8 when we set out for this place. If Tok's underleveled here, I'm suicidal."

Brox stared at him. "Level 10! By Hogzar's eyeteeth, human, you must be mad."

"It's been proposed," Topher agreed. "But don't worry, I'm not about to go try to solo the dungeon. My Class is Clerk; I'm not exactly a professional monster hunter."

Brox chortled, slapping Topher on the back so hard he nearly fell over. "A Clerk in Wanbourne! Human, you have brought spice to my day. I've seen a few of your Class before, but never in a place like this!"

"You have?" Topher was suddenly much more alert. "What can you tell me about my Class? Nobody else had ever even heard of it."

The other dwarf grunted. "Kin to the Sage class, if'n I recall correct. Bit of a mage-priest hybrid, isn't it?"

Topher nodded. "Yeah, but I can't cast a bunch of the spells from other type. No Cure Wounds spells, for example."

"Well, I've only seen 'em a few times, but we had Clerks in Cragholme," Brox confided, "but they mostly stuck to doin' what Clerks do best -- takin' papers out of boxes, writin' on 'em, and puttin' 'em back in boxes. You ever do anything like that?"

Topher groaned, remembering the Data Entry and Filing (Rank B) Skill on his Status. "Yeah. Most of what I do these days, in fact."

"Well, there ya have it." Brox hefted the iron pot, grunting a little despite how light it looked; Topher mentally revised his estimation of the other dwarf's strength from "whoa" to "dang". "Well, I can't tell ya much else, but I do know Clerks can't cast spells that conjure living creatures, neither; heard one of 'em bitchin' about it, wishin' he could make a lux to do his filin' for him." The dwarf chuckled again. "Course, I imagine he'd'a done more than use it for filin' if he coulda."

"What do you mean? And what's a 'lux'?" Topher regretted the question the instant it was out of his mouth -- he didn't want to look like too much of a rube, especially since it risked him being outed as an Otherworlder -- but his curiosity had gotten the better of him for a split second, and that was all it took.

The dwarf, however, didn't seem perturbed. "Lux personae -- humanoids made outta light with little horns, follow the caster's orders. Magic slaves, basically." He sniffed. "Not too many casters can summon 'em, but the ones that do tend to get up to... well, let's just say some people shouldn't be given the ability to control other folks. Bad business."

Topher was stunned. Oguro's secretary. The red guys in the Curios shop. They're magic sex slaves?! He winced, then smirked, realizing what that might imply about Dakath. "Wow, that's... that's wild. I don't even know what to say."

Brox shrugged. "Ain't much to be said; the luxes never complain, and they'll fight to the death for their masters. Weird when they die, too; shatter back into light." He had a bit of a faraway look in his eye when he said this, and Topher intuited that the dwarf had had to get through at least one lux to kill its summoner; he was reminded that he was talking to someone who probably spent an awful lot of time killing, and only the fact that Tok had seemed comfortable with the other dwarf kept him from making an excuse and fleeing to safer parts.

And as a result, it was fairly startling to him when his mouth opened of his own accord and said, "Does it make a sound?"

Brox blinked at him; Topher blinked at himself. Where did that come from? After a long moment, Brox nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like someone droppin' an expensive glass bowl. Why in Sheonn would you want to know that?"

"I dunno. I was just curious, I guess." Topher suddenly felt ill and anxious; he kept smelling smoke and thinking about very loud noises, and picturing Oguro's constantly-writhing hands. "Sorry if it was a weird question."

"No harm." The dwarf turned as Tok came ambling back from the inn's stables; Topher noticed that he was wearing his axe, despite this supposedly being a delivery to a client. Guess I'd be nervous too. "Wish I knew more; Clerks tend to stick with their own kind. Not much for front-line fightin'."

Topher's breath whooshed out in a rush. "Buddy, you don't know the half of it." He gave Tok a half-wave as the other dwarf joined them. "Anything else you need me to do?"

Tok shook his head. "Just hold down the fort, I expect. Should be back later tonight; early tomorrow at the latest." He looked vaguely apprehensive about something; Tok hoped the delivery wasn't too dangerous. Maybe it's some kind of monster client, and they're on their guard for a betrayal? Or is it just worry about crime? Topher shook himself, trying not to speculate. I'm sure they'll be fine.

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"All right, then. See you when you get back." With another nod to Brox, Topher set out for the Restful Boneyard; he climbed the two flights of stairs with only minor suicidal thoughts, cast Remove Fatigue before remembering he might not be allowed to do that, then decided it didn't matter and used one of the two iron keys he'd gotten from the front desk (Tok had the other) to let himself into their shared room.

It was only a little better than what he'd had in Frostford, but the differences mattered -- the floors had rugs instead of bare boards, the bathroom had actual plumbing and running water (cold only, of course), and the two beds had actual mattresses made of what looked like cotton or down. Probably made from harpy feathers or some shit from the dungeon, Topher thought to himself. He splashed his face and washed his hands, then sat down on the bed to take a look at his Ledger.

He was about to begin on yet another interminable exercise in factoring long calculations in hopes of getting another pitiable increment of progress on his work re-doing all his unification regressions between Priest and Mage magic when he realized he'd opened his Ledger on the wrong side; for a long time now, he'd been using the front to store his "important" records, like his copied spell formulae, and the back side for "scratch" paper, such as intermediate calculations and incidental notes (he copied completed spell diagrams and formulae into the front when he finished them). But opening it to the vast tracts of painstakingly hand-copied spell diagrams and catechisms distracted him for a moment, and he spent a few idle seconds paging through everything again, marveling at the body of work he'd built. What do you know, Topher, you finally started building something of consequence. It took you half your life and all you've managed to do so far is make a shittier version of what everybody else has, but at least you did it.

He was flicking through the Mage diagrams, half-thinking about the calculations that had produced his derivative of Lesser Yashfii and wondering for the hundredth time if anything similar existed for Remove Fatigue, when he suddenly landed on a page he hadn't looked at since he'd first copied it -- the "advanced spells" section of the spellbook, which he'd last looked at a few weeks ago and forgotten about after discovering he was too low-Level to cast any of them. The spell was called Shocking Grasp, and listed a required Level of 10.

Huh. What other things did I potentially unlock? He quickly riffled through the Ledger, which he also noticed seemed to have a few more pages than he remembered -- maybe the page count increases as my Level does, too? and found that he'd unlocked three new Mage spells and two new Priest spells. The Mage spells were mostly mostly new combat options: Shocking Grasp, which let him touch a target and electrify them (probably useless, since he didn't want to get that close to monsters), Missile Swarm, which seemed to be almost exactly the same as his version of Magic Dart empowered with Dahf and Rxs, and Phantasmal Locker, which supposedly summoned an animated chest to carry the caster's stuff (and which he probably wouldn't be able to cast at all, if Brox's theory about what spells Clerks had access to was correct). Not that he could even experiment inside the town, since he apparently needed a permit to cast Mage spells here. Curiously, he flipped forward a few more pages, looking for anything that he could look forward to; most were just higher-level versions of combat spells, but he did spot a couple that might be useful: Amanuensis, which he might supposedly get access to at Level 20, would let him copy written text from one source into another (although, with his luck, it would only be castable by the Scribe class, not the Clerk class), and Fleet Zephyr, which was a level 30 spell that apparently let him create various types of gusts of wind, including (supposedly) gales with enough compressed force to cut (the spell contained a lot of warnings about not accidentally severing one's own limbs, which made Topher feel excited and scared at the same time). The Priest spells were slightly slimmer pickings, being just a higher-level Cure Wounds spell (apparently called Cure Lesser Wounds, which he probably still couldn't cast) and a new spell called Sanctuary, which did something that seemed insane to Topher; it apparently created (very small) aura around the caster that prevented attack, but also prevented the caster from doing anything other than maintaining the spell while it was active (including, apparently, such actions as talking and holding anything). Just for fun, Topher tried to cast Cure Lesser Wounds a few times, but the results were always the same as every other time he'd tried a Cure spell -- even with flawless technique, the spell always had exactly the same effect as just muttering random words and gesturing. Sanctuary, on the other hand, did work, but took him nearly an hour of tries and 20 MP to cast even once; when he finally succeeded, he saw a small, grayish ring of half-light spring into existence around his feet, which winked out the literal instant he groaned in relief that he could finally stop casting it. Crap. Definitely going to get myself killed by accidentally talking when I use that one.

Dutifully, he hashed out all the formulae for his new spells, then set about factoring and deconstructing all the rune sequences; he was interested to discover fairly rapidly that most of the new spells had an identical triplet of runic transformations through Jhu, Palz, and Mij that was always performed the exact same way in the exact same order. He wouldn't have noticed it at all except for the fact that it was the singular and only difference between the Missile Swarm formula and his home-brewed Magic Dart Swarm one; at first, the two sequences looked unrelated except for the first few base runes; not for the first time, he wished he had some kind of context for what each of those particular High Runes represented, but Hotaka's half-guesswork chart hadn't gotten nearly that far down the list and he only remembered the actual meaning behind Dahf out of all the ones Hotaka had even made a run at. He wished he could ask the bespectacled boy for his thoughts on the new evidence, but the thought gave him a twinge and a sticky feeling on his palms that he instinctively shied away from; Bury the past. Whatever happened, I can't ask him now. Unsettled, he washed his hands again, then tried to work out what would happen if he applied the Jhu-Palz-Mij transform to Flame Jet -- it looked like it would produce "Rosh Shoi Xym Zraqq", which seemed counterintuitive. Rosh is a High Rune; normally I'd only see that as a transform, not as an actual value. And Shoi is a water rune; what's it doing there? But despite triple-checking his math, he couldn't find any mistakes; there was no doubt about it. He really needed to test this out.

But how? I can't cast magic in the city without a permit; and even if I knew where and how to get one, which I don't, it probably costs money I don't have and they'd be closed at this hour, anyway. Topher looked out the window, watching as the sun was beginning to set on Wanbourne; he was surprised that Tok and Brox weren't back yet.

Then, slowly, an idea came to him. It was mad, insane; he was alone, in a city where everyone had assured him that both the monsters and the other citizens were both deadly and higher-Level, and he was down to 17 MP to boot. But, unlike the last time he'd been tempted to do something reckless, now he had something to prove; it was stupid and childish, but there it was. This is still fucking dumb, Topher thought to himself grimly, but I guess that's not the deterrent it once was. In his mind's eye, he saw Dakath Xyrmaer's sneer of derision, and the dark thing within him sent a pulse of hate, like fire, out to the tips of his fingers. These assholes must be rubbing off on me.

He wrote a quick note to Tok, which basically consisted of If I don't come back, I'm dead, sorry, you were awesome and left his coin pouch behind; if he did get attacked or mugged, he didn't want to have anything worth stealing. He also left behind the few goods he had that weren't coins -- the bottle of soulbond glue and the thumbnail-sized Magic Stone he still hadn't sold from killing the goblin before Tok had shown up -- but he did take his spear. If nothing else, he might need it to kill himself with if his attitude continued to be this stupid. Topher liked being prepared.

He locked the door, pocketed the key, and informed the front desk he'd be out for a few hours (they informed him that the night watchman would let him in), and he trotted out into the street. Upon doing so, he cast two spells.

First, he carefully cast Summon Light (the Priest version) on the head of his spear; it was a little different from the Mage version in that it had to be cast upon a touched object (which subsequently glowed to produce the light) and didn't require concentration, but instead faded after about an hour. Next, he cast Sanctuary, but it failed immediately because he was holding his spear; he cursed, shoved it awkwardly into his belt loop so that it stuck up over his shoulders, and cast Sanctuary again, which seemed to work this time. Now all he had to do was not touch anything or say anything, make enough progress with the 13 MP he had left for this not to be a complete waste of time, and still have 2 MP left over to have a Sanctuary back to the inn. Time to learn whether or not my mouth is going to get me killed today.

He set off down the broad street that led to the front gate, doing his best to ignore stares and comments; a few times he had an itchy feeling between his shoulder blades, but no one accosted or spoke to him. A few people waved (most of them giggling at him) and he waved back, but he was careful not to respond verbally. The guards at the gate looked at him very oddly, but nobody prevented him from leaving; he figured they weren't actually responsible for preventing idiots from getting themselves killed. Well, maybe you'll get a show, fellas.

A quick glance around showed him that he wasn't the only one out here testing his mettle; a short-haired Stone Elf in platemail armor with glowing golden eyes was using a greatsword to hack up a few zombies about three hundred yards to his right. That made him feel a little more confident. Okay. Time to find a test subject.

Most of the zombies were hanging back about a quarter mile or so from the city walls, apparently reluctant to come into the radiance from the white crystals; however, after walking around cautiously for twenty minutes or so, Topher managed to find a solitary orc zombie shuffling and drooling about without any others nearby, and figured this was as good an opportunity as he'd get. Right. Time to see if apples and apples are both apples.

First, he cast his custom Magic Dart Swarm spell, which seemed to pummel the zombie a bit but didn't otherwise do much (except cost him 4 MP). Carefully, he prepared the sequence for Missile Swarm, visualized the runic circle in his mind's eye, and intoned "Bwin Zom Bomch Oiz Duthan!" He thrust out his spear towards the zombie, too, just for effect. Here goes nothin'.

The spell leapt from him with a fury that he hadn't remotely been prepared for; if his Ash Cone spell had contained enough power and heat to shock and singe him, this one practically blasted him backwards like a rocket engine. He slid back a good six inches and nearly fell over; the swarm of missiles was bigger, hotter, and brighter than the darts had been, and moved with at least three times the speed (which likely implied at least a roughly equivalent amount of additional kinetic force), and the zombie was instantly blasted apart as though it had been made of rotten wood.

Topher blinked. What the shit?

He ambled over and checked its corpse, and was surprise to discover that it had a Magic Stone about the size of a gumball, which was the first one he'd seen on the zombies; neither of the two he'd killed on his way into the city had had them, and from Tok's comments he reckoned that that hadn't been unusual. Maybe because they're undead humans, instead of undead monsters? He hadn't Leveled up, though. Guess that was too much to ask.

Still, it hadn't gone that poorly; he still had 4 MP, which was enough to cast Sanctuary, get back to the inn, and have just enough for a Create Food and Water and a Remove Fatigue before bed. Satisfied, he nodded to himself, put his spear back in his belt, and stretched; maybe he'd get back soon enough to --

A quiet grunt behind him alerted him just in time; he whirled, scrabbling for his spear, then saw the relaxed figure of a familiar dwarf behind him. "Brox. Jesus, you nearly scared me half to death."

"A human accusing a dwarf of being irritatingly stealthy? How the tables have turned." The dwarf chuckled, striding closer. "Out Leveling up?"

Topher nodded. "I was pretty low on MP, though, so I was only able to kill one. Still, it was a big improvement; the new spells I got from hitting Level 10 made a big difference. Yesterday, these things seemed almost unstoppable, but one new spell and I can two-shot them. It's wild."

"Spell levels can be like that, I'm told," the dwarf agreed. "Wouldn't know myself, though; I'm a Hex Knight. I mostly just hit stuff." He stretched, unlimbering his mace. "Tok's back at the inn, if you're wondering. We had a good bit to drink; figured a nice nap would be convivial for 'em."

"That's good. Tok definitely deserved a break; it's been a rough few weeks." Topher started preparing the sequence for Sanctuary in his mind. "You out here to kill zombies too?"

Brox winced. "Not exactly."

There was a long pause. Topher was confused for a moment, then felt a cold chill race up his spine. "Me. You're here to kill me."