Karian dove under his arm, came up with a straight right arm, her left leg extended straight behind her, and drove the blade into Junt’s throat. He choked, sputtered out a mouthful of blood, then fell flat on his face. I felt his pain, literally, at least I did yesterday.
The only bright spot was that my XP bar filled and I leveled up.
Then I faded away for a few minutes.
Figures crouched around me. I had trouble breathing, so I focused on taking in small sips of air. Then the pain hit again. Waves of nausea carried me until I rolled onto my side and did my best not to throw up.
“Oz?”
I opened my eyes to find Karian kneeling next to me, concern etched on her face.
“Good thing you got him,” I muttered. “He was into butt stuff.”
“What?” Karian sputtered.
“Nothing,” I said.
The guards from the front gate stood over us scratching their heads. Oz plopped down in a puff of dust. “Yay, us.”
“At least you guys didn’t die this time,” Karian said and brushed a clump of hair out of my eyes. “Are you okay? One of your eyes is bright red like you blew a blood vessel.”
“I feel like I blew my entire brain,” I said. “At least I leveled up to 5.”
“Grats,” Karian said.
“So what are we to make of this mess?” one of the guards asked.
“Simple. That man tried to kill us. Luckily you men came back with me, after a lot of prodding, and managed to intervene. Who do you report to?” Karian said.
“Oh, uh. That would be Sergeant Bliss. He’s probably at the barracks just a few blocks north of here. My name’s Mitz, and this here is Fode,” the taller guard said.
“Excellent. I will let them know how helpful you’ve both been in preventing a murder in the city. Well done, gentlemen,” Karian reassured them. “You should probably get back to your guard posts in case some ruffians try to accost the townsfolk.”
“Oy, we’re on the job,” Mitz said.
“What about the body?” Oz asked the guard.
“Reckon someone’ll clean it up,” Mitz shrugged.
The two men spun with a clank of plate metal and headed back to their guard posts.
“What was this asshole’s name?” Oz kicked the corpse.
“Junt. His name was Junt,” I said.
“Well, Junt was a cu…”
“Don’t you even think about saying it,” Karian warned.
“You were thinking it too,” Oz said.
Karian laughed and helped me to my feet.
“Let’s go find another inn, one that doesn’t have pissed off giants,” Karian said.
“A moment of your time?” someone said.
We turned to regard a man dressed in a flowing purple robe with gold bands worked into the sleeves. He wore a circlet of silver with a large green gem in the center. His face was craggy, and he bore a short white beard and mustache.
“Can I help you?” I said.
“Possibly, but I suspect I can help you,” the man said. “My name is Ansalon, and I’m the senior trainer at the Crimson Mages.”
Ansalon nodded toward the building we had fought in front of against Junt.
“Can I stop by tomorrow and do some training?” I said because my head still throbbed.
“You can and you should, but right now there are events afoot and you, young sir, may be instrumental. On top of that, if you keep using magic they way you are, I suspect you shall not last more than another day, two at the most.”
“I just want to rest. My head hurts so bad,” I argued.
“I’m certain it does. Come along now, and bring your friends,” the man gestured.
It was then I noticed the long staff he carried at his side. The wood had been bleached white and on its head was a gnarled chunk of wood. Embedded there a light blue stone which cast a gentle light.
“Cool staff,” I said.
“I see you carry one as well. Perhaps we can determine its true purpose together,” Ansalon said.
“I wondered how that worked. So do you cast an identify spell on the weapon?”
“Something like that,” Ansalon nodded sagely.
“You guys in?” I turned to Karian and Oz.
“Might as well, the rest of this town has been a shit show,” Oz nodded.
“Sure. Maybe the mages have some food and better patrons that the inn,” Karian said.
“It’s this way, friends,” Ansalon turned and gestured for us to follow.
17
SKILLS, MAGES, AND KILLER TEA
The Crimson Mages were a sect of magic users who were taken out during the 3.0 update to Realms of Th’loria and replaced by a generalized group of mages. This was around the same time Wimer’s reach was launched. The new zone was for high level characters and it had been named for one of our developers in Europe. Kevin Wimer had been a loss as he had designed most of the magic systems in the game. Sadly, he had died in a car crash and the new region had been named in his honor.
There existed three schools of magic each focusing on a particular specialty. As one would guess from the name, the Crimson Mages were dedicated to destructive spells. For healing one became a priest although the crimsons did teach a few spells useful for surviving in the wild.
The Elders had the most devastating magic in the land, and also the hardest to learn. One did not even consider joining them unless you were at level thirty, and even then it was one of the most difficult paths in the game. Elder mages redefined the term glass cannon. Sure they could hit hard, but a single blow could drop them like a rock. Teaching aspects of the elder fallen gods were not for the faint of heart and required quests that could take weeks to complete. Then the final part of the spell culminated in a raid. For the single player types, this simply wasn’t the kind of game they wanted to be involved with.
The final school of magic, Cerulean, focused on air and water and they were kind of lame. Who needed to breathe under water? Most air spells were ganked because players abused the ability to fly, and obtained access to planes they were not intended to reach.
If the three schools still existed, I wondered if I would be able to gain elder spells.
I suppose only time would tell.
Ansalon led us up the street to the guildhall. We walked passed the wooden sign with the image of the goddess Leefser carved in the wood. Now that I wasn’t running for my life I had the opportunity to study the artwork. I peered at her face, and while the picture was small, the details were excellent and matched what I remembered from my vision.
The front door opened and a small figure strolled out of the guildhall. He wore a blue jerkin over chainmail, and black boots worked with red runes that reached his knees. He was stocky and carried a haft stretched over his shoulder.
He didn’t have a beard, and he wore a pair of goggles over the top of his tight curly blonde hair.
“Greetings,” he called cheerfully.
“Yo,” Oz replied.
“Come to the Crimson mages, have ya?” The dwarf said. “Excellent place to train.”
“Yeah,” I said as I stared down at him.
“Introductions are usually in order. I suppose I’ll begin. Name’s Thandroot Spellshatter, but don’t let my surname throw ya. I’m learning the arts,” he said. “I’m more of a fighter but recently studied other practices, shall we say.”
I held out my hand, and the dwarf reached up and grasped my wrist. We shook, and then he offered the same gesture to Oz and Karian. After we exchanged names, Ansalon, waiting patiently near the door, banged his staff on the entryway and gestured for us to enter.
“You’re not what I expected,” I said and then wanted to bite my tongue.
“I’m not sure how to take that, but I’ll take it as a compliment I suppose,” Thandroot replied.
“I just meant that I haven’t met many dwarves who wanted to study magic.”
“Aye. Strange world we have here. Make the best of it, survive,
and then live for the grace that the Lady Leefser offers.” Thandroot rubbed his chin as he spoke.
“Where’s your beard?” Oz asked.
“Haw!” The dwarf chuckled. “Hate the thing. Scratchy and always getting in the way.”
“Thandroot,” I said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you real?”
“Am I real?” He scoffed. “Real as real can be.”
“It’s just that you aren’t the typical NPC,” I said.
Thandroot looked me in the eye then, and I felt like he wanted to say something. Instead, he nodded and said, “I don’t follow the name, but I’m real enough. If ya need my service, I can probably be bribed with the promise of treasure and glory. I’ll be about, so feel free to ask after me.”
“I may do that,” I said.
“Right. Off to sample the ale in town,” Thandroot nodded at us and tromped away.
“Don’t go to The Bloody Nimbus Inn. I saw the innkeeper putting water in the ale.”
“A bloody crime,” Thandroot’s eyebrows drew together in consternation. “I’ll avoid it, and thanks for the tip, friend.”
Thandroot shifted his maul, adjusted his breeches, and departed with a wave of his hand.
“Something’s not right about that guy,” I whispered after the dwarf was out of sight.
“Do you think he’s like us and he’s role playing?” Karian said in a small voice.
“That would be insane,” Oz whispered. “Who in their right mind could enjoy all of this bullshit?”
“Some dedicated people, that’s who,” I said to Oz hoping he’d catch my hint that he was being a pill.
“Come along now. It’s getting late, and we have much to discuss,” Ansalon gestured impatiently.
With aching feet, head, arms, legs, and just about every other part of my body, I, and my companions, went into the guildhall of the Crimson Mages, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Thandroot was more than he had appeared to be.
The hall was warm and inviting. A wall hanging that reached to the ceiling displayed Leefser as she fought another fallen Elder god named Yendras. In the image, she was depicted rising into the sky while Yendras was cast to the earth in a ball of fire that burned brightly across the heavens.
“That’s who came to me in my vision,” I pointed at Leefser.
Oz and Karian fought down smiles and nodded at me like I was a lunatic.
The main room was designed much like the newer mage halls in current Realms of Th’loria. Stations sat in each corner of the room, and at two of them other figures worked on enchanting items or inscribing scrolls. A woman in a long brown robe chanted over a book and sparks leaped into the air, then dove, and impacted the page leaving long whorls and circles. Maybe someday I would advance far enough in the game to learn that skill and make some coin.
“This way. No time to dally,” Ansalon led me toward the back of the room.
We followed him past another craftswoman who applied a feather quill pen to a book as she inscribed something. I tried to look over her shoulder, but she moved her shoulder to block my view. I stopped, and Oz bumped into me.
“What?” he asked.
“Did you see what she was writing in?” I whispered
“No, why are you whispering,” Oz said.
The woman slipped the book into a velvet bag, and then into one of the many drawers set atop her desk.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” I said even though it wasn’t nothing at all. “It’s just that those look like our books.”
“I haven’t even looked at mine since I tried to throw it away, and you know something? I’m happy about it.”
“Haven’t checked mine in a while either. It was tapping like crazy until I hit level 5. Then it went quiet,” I said. “Level five and all it took was taking down a mountain named Junt.”
“Hey,” Karian said and spread her arms around from her sides. “Can you guys maybe attempt to keep up?”
I shrugged and joined Ansalon and Karian.
ANSALON LED us into a back room through a doorway inscribed with eighteen-inch runes that I could not make out. Four more marched across the door several inches below those, and then another row below that. Ansalon placed his hand on the door, and a rune from each row turned red, and the door swung open on silent hinges.
“That was impressive,” I said.
“We take security quite seriously here,” Ansalon assured me. “This door cannot be breached by weapon or magic, and only a guild master knows the key.”
“Sweet,” Oz said. “Can you teach anyone the key?”
Ansalon didn’t answer but instead studied Oz like my friend was an imbecile.
Bookshelves lined the walls and stretched to the ceiling. Colorful tomes, scrolls, etchings, and maps sketched on parchments, were stacked on every shelf. Piles of documents in every imaginable medium lay among the books, so many that it was truly staggering. I could stay in this room for a year and still have entire shelves left yet to explore.
I looked up and sure enough, more of those damned ever-burning torches spread out at each corner of the room. Not the smartest place for a fire if you asked me.
A table with four chairs sat in the center of the room with a couple of burning candles providing some illumination. More parchment, quills, and a bottle of ink had been pushed into one corner, and a sculpture of Leefser rose from the center of the table. A jagged blue stone, glowed faintly, and floated above her outstretched hands.
“Is that what I think it is?” I pointed at the gem.
“What do you think it is, my boy?” Ansalon placed his staff against the wall, stepped to the table, and took a seat.
“It appears to be part of a shard,” I said.
“You are correct. It appears to be a sliver of full shard, but it is not. It’s a projection of one and it’s one of the reasons that you are here,” Ansalon said. “Very intuitive of you.”
I nodded at my friends. See, I know what’s what.
“The shards are a big deal, right?” Oz said. “Walt went on and on about them when we got here.”
“Yeah. I play the game. It’s hard to get a shard,” Karian said.
“Hard to get a shard,” Oz chuckled.
“As I was saying. When I saw you battling the big man outside, I suspected you were the one who may be able to help us. The fact that you were able to cast so many spells at such a low level was impressive,” Ansalon said.
“It’s what I do,” I shrugged and tried to look somewhat humble.
“It was what you did, and it’s also how you nearly destroyed your mind,” Ansalon chastised me.
“Would you believe I was an expert mage at one time? I’ve learned the entire line of Draedor. I’ve mastered most of Gramore, and also half of Wedonia,” I said.
“Impressive but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the last two. Draedor is an excellent line of skills to master. But you are no master. You are a child playing with fire,” Ansalon said. “And you should not tell such childish tales if you wish to be taken seriously.”
Oz grinned as Ansalon laid into me.
“But I was doing pretty good against that guy. Did you see how big he was?” I protested. “If I had another mana potion I probably could have finished him.”
Ansalon slapped the table. “You did not almost have him. He had you. You nearly died. You need to exercise caution until you have reached level 10.”
“I’m ready for training. I’ve got some skill points saved up. When can we start?” I asked.
“We can start now, but you must remember not to exert your burgeoning skills again. If you do, you may find yourself drooling all alone in a sanitarium. You would be surprised how many students learn this the hard way,” Ansalon said as he looked at the three of us.
I didn’t tell him that I could probably just jump off a mountain, and awaken completely healed at a binding stone.
“Yeah, so I’m gonna go find something else to do while you get your learning on,” Karian said.
“You’re leaving?” I asked her.
“Just for a while. I need to seek out a trainer as well. I’ve been using the warrior’s guild, but there are more specialized places if you know where to look,” Karian said. “Plus I have a quest turn-in that should bring in some coin.”
“And you just happen to know where to get trained?” Oz said.
“I do because I’ve been in this town,” Karian frowned. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to go spend a few skill points, Oz.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Let’s meet back here in the morning.”
“You’re both going?” I asked in alarm.
“We’ll be back, don’t worry.” Karian turned to the door. “Do I have to do anything special to open the secret entryway or whatever?”
“No, my dear,” Ansalon assured her. “You are free to come and go as you please. But you may only attempt to enter this room with me. When you return in the morning, I would very much like to speak with the three of you about something important to the safety of the land. You may be our only hope.”
“Woah,” Oz said. “I’m in a Lord of the Rings movie.”
Did I detect a hint of a smile on Ansalon’s face? When I looked again, he was once again a stone.
“Great. So we’ll have a little sit down in the morning and talk about this quest,” Karian said as she rose to her feet.
“Yeah. A real shit-down in the morning,” Oz said, but if he shocked Ansalon, the old man didn’t bother acknowledging the childishness.
“Excellent, and do not worry about your friend. He is in capable hands,” Ansalon assured my friends.
“Yep. See ya, Walt,” Karian said.
“Later, bro. Don’t burn your hair off,” Oz shot me a fist bump and then followed Karian outside of the room.
AS THE DOOR closed behind them, I turned to Ansalon. “I’m ready. How do we begin?”
“First I must warn you very sternly that you must be careful in the future. A mage fights with different weapons than a person with a sword. Allow me to make an analogy.”
SHARDS OF REALITY: A LitRPG novel (Enter the Realm Book 1) Page 17
