by Kevin Murphy
“Thermomancy is,” Chillwane began, “essentially the art of willing temperature to conform to your whim.”
Dakkon nodded.
“Changing the temperature of a thing or environment through sheer concentration is much easier to speak of than it is to do, but when it comes right down to it… that’s exactly what must be done,” Chillwane instructed. “Performing thermomancy is not something one can be taught by listening alone, it is something that must be felt. Something that must be craved with every fiber of one’s being. Only then will the secret to the art be unlocked.”
Dakkon was unsure of how learning a new class would go, but supposed going through a trial was much more flavorful and interesting than simply paying some money and walking out a changed man. “I’m ready to begin,” Dakkon said when he suspected Chillwane was waiting for his affirmation.
“Then we’ll get started. But first, do you have a canteen?” asked Chillwane.
“I do,” Dakkon admitted.
“Drink what you can and then hand it to me,” Chillwane commanded.
Dakkon drank from one of his two canteens and handed it to the master thermomancer.
The room grew warm. Very warm. Sweat began to drizzle from Dakkon’s forehead and the pits of his arms moistened.
“You are very warm,” Chillwane stated as a matter of fact. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could cool down?”
Dakkon, perplexed, nodded. With no stirring of the air, the sweat grew hot on his skin and he sweltered.
“To cool down you must will yourself to be cool. Think of a cool setting,” Chillwane suggested.
Dakkon was too warm to think properly. He tried to think of cold environments but nothing came to mind. His mind was shutting down from the heat.
“Follow my voice. I will guide you,” Chillwane commanded. “You are in a field of snow. There are flurries of frozen water dancing around you. You see children at play who aim to build a tower of ice and snow, but must stop because the freezing cold stings their fingers.”
Dakkon was barely able to follow the words of the trainer, but with the mention of a freezing sting the differentiation between intense heat and extreme cold began to blur in his mind.
“You’re strolling upon the surface of a frozen lake. The ice shatters and you plunge into the biting chill beneath. The cold is so intense it feels like the grasp of icy hands. You must get out of the water to warm yourself,” Chillwane continued his guidance.
Dakkon actually began to feel… chilly. As though a switch had been flipped, the room didn’t feel so oppressively hot anymore. Once an icy breath escaped from between Dakkon’s lips, Chillwane exclaimed, “Yes! That’s it! You are beginning to learn.”
Dakkon’s body began to cool itself, but his mind was still dull. He latched onto Chillwane’s words.
“You are out of the water. You have managed to stop shivering from the cold of the lake. You look around and see that the snow has stopped falling on your head. You turn to your left, you step forward and you are walking…” Chillwane continued, “on the surface of the sun.”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Dakkon howled and passed out.
\\\
As Dakkon came to, Chillwane was splashing water over him.
“Aw, geez,” Chillwane said, “you were doing so well during the exercise. I thought you’d have the sense to disregard that bit about the sun and all.” The thermomancer seemed to speak far less formally as he handed Dakkon his canteen. “You scared me half to death with that hollering of yours.”
Dakkon glowered at Chillwane. The master’s cruel prank had made Dakkon feel as though he were fully submerged in boiling water, if only for an instant.
“Ah, come now. You’re all right,” said Chillwane. “Best of all, you’ve completed your first step down the road of thermomancy. Congratulations.”
Dakkon, rising to his feet, continued to stare down the old thermomancer.
“Oh, fine, fine. Here. On account of your generous offer of that underlay to have me teach you, and as an apology for my poor sense of humor, allow me to split the difference with you.” Chillwane reached into his coin purse and pulled out a shining gold coin. “Here.”
Dakkon’s eyes lit up as he took the coin.
“Now get out there and practice your art in the world. Everything else is in your hands.” Chillwane said while ushering Dakkon out the door.
As he walked out into the open air of the outdoors, with the breeze on his face and a gold coin in his pocket, Dakkon forgave the old man. “He really isn’t such a bad guy,” Dakkon thought.
“BUYING ‘Chain Mesh Underlay!’ five gold!” a player wandering through a crowd of merchants shouted.
“I’ll pay seven gold for one!” another player upped the ante.
“Step off, you damned poacher!” the first player challenged. “Seven gold! Not a copper more!”
Dakkon thought he could hear a hearty chuckle coming from the closed door behind him.
Chapter 7: Greener Pastures
Dakkon opened his character information to weigh the capabilities of his first class:
|————
|Statistics ( ][][ ) ( ][][][ )
|————
|Strength: 10 ( ? )
|Stamina: 10
|Agility: 10
|Dexterity: 10
|Intellect: 10
|Luck: 0 ( X )
|Free Stat Points: 0
|
|Hit Points: 50/50
|Endurance: 50/50
|Mana Points: 50/50
|Level: 1
|EXP Until Next Level: [_______200/300__ ]
Noticing a new button available next to statistics, he clicked on it.
|————
|Classes
|————
|Primary Class: Thermomancer
|Class Level: 1
|EXP Until Next Level: [ 0/300 ]
|Skills:
|+Thermoregulate – 1— 0% [ ]
Selecting the skill brought up the following information:
|+Thermoregulate: This skill allows its user to change their temperature at will. Higher ranks in this skill will improve the ease with which a character can alter temperature.
That was it. There was only one skill available to him for now. Since Dakkon had witnessed the thermomancer master heat the air around him to oven-level temperatures without burning himself up, he knew that there must be more abilities to come. Thermoregulate didn’t appear to have any combat applications, but at least he could level it up while he walked around.
At a whim, Dakkon opened the window displaying his traits:
|————
|Traits ( ][ )
|————
|Appearance – 8 (Equipped)
|Heroic – 1— 0% [ ]
|Hunter – 1— 0% [ ]
|Steadfast – 1— 0% [ ]
|Thick – 1— 20% [_____ ]
“Grand,” Dakkon sighed. He was becoming ‘thick.’
In addition to his new class and skill, he also acquired a new Trait:
|-Steadfast: Gained through enduring a harsh experience. Every rank in Steadfast increases non-physical resistance to harmful effects by 1%. Current effect: +1%.
Dakkon had not realized the ‘Appearance’ component of his recently acquired armor would show up in his traits. Now that he knew, he was eager to see what the ability did:
|-Appearance: Provided by equipped items: Gentry Traveler’s Tunic, Gentry Traveler’s Pantaloons. Ranks in Appearance affect how NPCs judge a character’s station at a glance. Current score: 8.
“So, it’s some sort of…” Dakkon paused and pondered the effect of the trait, “way to pass one’s self off as a gentleman?” Perhaps he could use it to infiltrate a royal court, or take command of a regiment of troops… but Dakkon doubted he’d get any real use out of a few points.
Putting appearances aside, Dakkon already had his plan of action. He needed to stock up on food, refill his canteens,
and head towards the village called Greenburne where there was bound to be a quest waiting for him. And so, he made his way towards Correndin’s west gate, making sure to stop by the ‘Everything on a stick!’ stand to pay his respects and buy one taquito on a stick and one cake on a stick—the combination of which proved to be abominable, but Dakkon was pleased all the same.
Once at the west gate, Dakkon bartered with nearby traders—the result of which fully refilled his canteens and gained him 30 servings of dried meat which he was assured could stand up to the hardships of the road. Dakkon checked with the guards by the edge of the city to make sure heading due west down the road would take him straight to Greenburne and learned that, despite a well-labeled turn, it would do exactly that.
Dakkon set off down the road by foot, mostly unaware of his surroundings due to his constant, strained exercises of imagining himself standing naked in a frozen tundra, then bundled up in layers of fur amidst hot dunes of sand. Dakkon continued alternating his thoughts between the contrasting environments until after only a few moments he found himself completely drained of mana, at which point his image training had no effect on his temperature. Dakkon moved to the side of the road, pulled up his overlay, and sat while waiting for his mana to regen.
It is a common feature in games of this nature that sitting down increases the rate at which a player regenerates, and Chronicle was no exception. At his current strength, however, Dakkon only had enough mana to train for a few minutes before he would need to stop and rest. There was wildlife about and, as a compromise, Dakkon decided he’d fully expend his mana then would continue to walk until he encountered a monster or animal he could slay for experience. To keep himself moving, he’d only take his rest after a skirmish. As soon as he had recovered his mana, he stood up, brushed himself off, and then continued down the road, switching between hot and cold like a mantra.
Just as Dakkon’s pool of mana had run dry, he saw a lone fawn grazing just off the main road. He had no misgivings hunting the young, virtual deer, and so chased after it. The fawn’s natural instincts proved more than a match for Dakkon at his current abilities and the deer darted away at a pace which, despite his best efforts, Dakkon was unable to match. Realizing he’d need to find a better way, he walked back toward the road. Before he had a chance to sheathe his dagger, a hungry wolf—which had likely been stalking the fawn—leapt toward him. Dakkon managed to jump aside while readying his weapon, but was too slow for the predator.
[You have been clawed for 9 damage. Remaining HP 41/50]
Dakkon now lay on the ground attempting to set up for the wolf’s next lunge. The wolf jumped onto him, intending to bite at the vulnerable flesh of his neck but only finding Dakkon’s shoulder. During the strike, the dagger in his hands found its way into the chest of the lupine assailant.
[You have been bitten for 16 damage. Remaining HP 25/50]
[You have stabbed a wolf for 258 damage. Wolf has been slain.]
[You have gained 60 experience! EXP until next level 260/300]
“Ah. Damn!” Dakkon cried. The pain was greater than he had expected it to be. Before Dakkon could process the information filling the bottom of his vision, two other wolves emerged from the trees and lunged toward him. Dakkon managed to get to his knees and swiped at the first wolf’s face as it clawed him.
[You have been clawed for 8 damage. Remaining HP 17/50]
[You have slashed a wolf for 242 damage. Wolf has been slain.]
[You have gained 60 experience! EXP until next level 20/710]
[You have gained a level! You have 5 free stat points to distribute!]
The final wolf halted its assault so abruptly that it slid foward in the dirt. The beast whimpered, turned its tail, and ran.
Shaken from the sensation of being set upon by a small pack of wolves, Dakkon took a moment to collect himself. “Those bastards almost had me,” Dakkon considered. “But they went down so easily…” The encounter felt strange to him. Trying to figure out what had happened, Dakkon tried invoking a command he hadn’t known for sure was in the game, but was a classic mechanic of online role-playing games, “Combat Log!” He thought. A scrollable window popped up.
Dakkon’s eyes were glued to his two damage entries:
[You have stabbed a wolf for 258 damage. Wolf has been slain.]
[You have slashed a wolf for 242 damage. Wolf has been slain.]
“What the hell?” Dakkon felt chills run up and down his spine. He looked at the dagger, somewhat bloodied in his hands. “Just how strong is this thing?”
Without a proper reference to gauge damage by—except for how hard a rat bites compared to a wolf—Dakkon was unsure about the overwhelming display of power his weapon seemed capable of. With a quick calculation, he tried to put it into terms he could understand, “16 wolf bites. I do as much damage as 16 separate, angry wolf bites,” Dakkon thought, “But then, maybe that’s just how things work in this game. Maybe a low-level creature does poor damage compared to an armed man.”
With no way to be sure, Dakkon shook away his thoughts on the matter and set to harvesting the wolves. The problem arose that he had no idea how to manage it and, being unsure that he even had the right tools for the job, settled for wrenching out the four enlarged canine teeth from each wolf, then pocketed them and marched back to the road. Noting his health and mana pools were both full from leveling up, Dakkon sallied forth on his way towards Greenburne.
The remainder of Dakkon’s trek towards the village went flawlessly. He practiced his thermomancy, paused to hunt any nearby animals, and rested, each in turn. Twice, he stopped to rest for jerky and warm, metallic tasting water. By the time Dakkon could see Greenburne, he had leveled up two more times. All creatures fell before his dagger with only a single swipe or thrust, and he packed away whatever he could fit into his bag. Dakkon had acquired 13 full hares, eight wolf canines, and three brown snake carcasses. Everything else was simply too large to bring along, and was left for the scavengers. He noticed that the weight of 13 hares in his bag didn’t feel heavy—clearly a concession against realism for the players’ benefit.
Aside from his bounty of loot, Dakkon had advanced in several ways:
|————
|Statistics ( ][][ ) ( ][][][ )
|————
|Strength: 10 ( ? )
|Stamina: 10
|Agility: 10
|Dexterity: 10
|Intellect: 10
|Luck: 0 ( X )
|Free Stat Points: 15
|
|Hit Points: 80/80
|Endurance: 65/65
|Mana Points: 80/80
|Level: 4
|EXP Until Next Level: [______975/1,350_ ]
|————
|Traits ( ][ ) ( ][][][ )
|————
|Appearance – 8 (Equipped)
|Heroic – 1— 10% [__ ]
|Hunter – 2— 15% [___ ]
|Steadfast – 1— 0% [ ]
|Thick – 1— 20% [_____ ]
|————
|Classes
|————
|Primary Class: Thermomancer
|Class Level: 3
|EXP Until Next Level: [______784/1,050__ ]
|Skills:
|+Thermoregulate – 6— 70% [________________ ]
Dakkon had made considerable progress compared to his first day, but knew that progress tends to be quick in the beginning. By the time Thermoregulate had reached level 5, Dakkon found it much easier to maintain his concentration and the skill required far less mana to use. The further along he had progressed towards Greenburne, the less frequent his breaks became. Dakkon soon found it much easier to pay attention to his surroundings while altering his body heat, but using the skill was still far from practical.
Dakkon strolled into Greenburne with the casual attitude of someone who belonged there. The village was bigger than he had anticipated. A large well lay near the center of the town, next to a respectably clea
n, brick, two-story inn. Dakkon entered the inn’s common room, filled with players and NPCs alike, and a message appeared on his screen:
[You are resting in a bar.]
[Restoration speed is increased.]
Dakkon passed by three tables of people watching him with interest, strode up to the bald, broad-shouldered man behind the bar and lobbed questions at him without having the courtesy to offer buying anything.
“I’ve travelled here from Correndin because I heard this village was having some trouble,” Dakkon declared. He had grown confident from his trivial journey. “What exactly is happening here?”
“Another adventurer here to try and help?” The barkeeper seemed delighted to see another new face. His business had surely surged from the influx of quest seekers. “We’re grateful for your assistance. Whether you came by horseback or foot, you must have a parched throat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Dakkon was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of quid pro quo. “I’ll have some ale and a leg of something,” he tried.
“Certainly!” the barkeeper said with delight. “Penny! Go and fetch the mutton,” he yelled towards a young, strawberry-haired girl in an apron who had been idly chatting to customers.
Dakkon wasn’t sure, but the grin on the barkeeper’s face suggested he might be left with plenty of leftover food.
The bald barkeeper filled a pint-sized wooden mug up to the brim with a frothy liquid and set it before Dakkon with a contented smile. “Your food will take a little time, but will be well worth the wait.”
The tankard smelled sweet and delicious, but Dakkon’s mood soured a bit as he watched the young Penny guide a fully-grown sheep into the back.
