The Land of the Undying Lord

by J. T. Wright

  “No, Recruit!” Cullen said through gritted teeth, “I don’t mean five. Magic, and those who shaped it, existed long before the Champions. Wizards became a Class, and that Class became Mages, but they were not among the first.”

  “Wizards?” The recruit, a sixteen-year-old Mage named Arisa, considered herself knowledgeable and intelligent. This was currently not an opinion shared by her fellow recruits, “I’ve never heard of the Wizard Class.”

  “It’s one of the few lost Classes that we know the name of. By all accounts, it would be considered an Advanced Class today.” Very rarely, had Cullen run into this situation. Many found him unreasonable, but Cullen was fair. He never asked for more than a person could give, and he never punished on a whim. Right now, he wanted to take Arisa’s head off for interrupting his train of thought, but he was answering questions today. Any question put to him, apparently.

  Arisa never knew how close she had come to spending the rest of her life digging and refilling holes. She nodded, thoughtfully, and turned her gaze forward again.

  “Ahem. Champions were given Classes and Quests, envied and honored,” Cullen started again, “and they thought they were at the pinnacle until one in particular fell.

  “His name has been forgotten, his Class and origins erased, but his sin is remembered. His task was simply to escort a Princess from one Kingdom to another, where she was to be married. This marriage would have ended a thousand-year war and was important to the god of the Champion.

  “It was a distraction that caused it. One should never get distracted on a mission, Recruits. Terrible things happen to Champions, Adventurers, and Guardsmen who get distracted. A distraction… a beast, a lesser dragon, it is said, caused the fall of a Champion. He must have thought there was more glory in slaying dragons than guarding a girl. The Champion left the princess with her guards, who were just common men, and hunted the dragon. He succeeded in his hunt, but when he returned, the princess and all her men had been slaughtered by bandits.

  “It was the first failed Quest in history. It led to the destruction of a kingdom and almost to the death of a god. The gods begged the World to punish the Champion because they couldn’t. No god may harm their own Champion or interfere with another’s. The World agreed and created a test for the Champion, a Trial.

  “It was the first Trial, and it still exists today, though far from here. The Champion failed to clear the Trial, and as punishment became a floor guardian, to die again and again at the hands of other Champions.

  “And the World changed. More trials came, and soon more people were born with Classes. At first, they thought they were Champions, until the first Professions appeared. That was the beginning. As time passed, all came to have a Class or Profession. The monsters multiplied, the safe places grew smaller, and the new Classes fought less with each other and more to hold ground against the hordes.

  “New Classes and Skills were discovered; old ones were lost and sometimes rediscovered. The time when a large family was needed to work the land disappeared. Farmers share traits with the Nobility now, an heir to inherit, one more, just in case, and any other children find their own way.”

  Cullen trailed off. He had barely scratched the surface, but as he’d said before, he was no “robe-wearing prick.” He recognized that Trent needed a lot of basic information and history, but he hardly knew where to start.

  Trent received notice that he’d completed his first Quest and earned his first twenty Experience Points. He was closer to his own Class now, and he vaguely understood how important that was. Cullen had given him a lot to think over and left him with a lot more questions, but they could wait. The group rode in silence until the midday break.

  **********

  Trent crawled down from his horse gratefully when Cullen called a halt to their travels around midday. He stretched and groaned. Around him, recruits and Guardsman did the same, before they started tending to their horses.

  Trent looked, resentfully, at the mare he’d been forced to ride. He supposed there was something he should be doing for the miserable beast, but he didn’t know what.

  As the horse met his gaze placidly, Trent’s resentment turned to shame. He was blaming the horse for something completely beyond the animal’s control. She had carried him peacefully and well, despite his weight and inexperience, and she deserved more than his poor attitude. He stepped forward and bowed to the mare. She probably couldn’t understand his actions. He still felt better for it.

  “Hey, Trent, Sergeant says… What are you doing?” A familiar voice came from behind him. Trent turned to find Tersa. He hadn’t realized she’d been in the group. All the recruits had a similar look in their uniforms, and he hadn’t really paid them much mind.

  “Apologizing,” Trent muttered, his face flushing.

  Tersa pushed her helmet back with one hand, revealing more of her freckled forehead. “To the horse. Why?”

  Trent shrugged. It wasn’t something he could explain. He only knew he’d found himself sympathizing with the mare for some reason.

  “Uh, okay. I think horses prefer a scratch or a bit of apple to a bow though,” Tersa said, smiling. “This one would like a drink, I imagine. Sergeant says we should fetch water from the creek for the animals. Don’t know why, there’s a barrel of the stuff in the wagon, and they’ve got legs, so we could just lead them to…”

  Tersa broke off with a start and looked around to see if anyone had heard her questioning her orders. “Builds character I’ll bet. Sergeant s real big on character building. Come on, buckets are in the wagon.”

  Trent started to follow and then stopped. “What about the horse? I shouldn’t just leave her, should I?”

  “She’ll be fine. Just make sure the reins aren’t hanging; she’s trained not to wander,” Tersa said over her shoulder.

  Dubiously, Trent did as she directed and trotted to catch up. It took half an hour of carrying water before Cullen said they’d brought enough. Then he proceeded to make a mockery of their efforts by taking out an enchanted bucket and channeling into it provide water for himself.

  Released from their chores, the two collected a lunch very similar to Trent’s breakfast, with the addition of two small apples. Meal in hand, they sat on the ground near the wagon to consume it.

  Tersa talked as she ate, and Trent listened attentively. The young Recruit was very excited about this training mission. A whole month of fighting beasts at the border. Oh, there was a week of travel each way, but that still left two weeks for the adventure. Tersa thought she’d gain two, maybe three, Levels. If she gained four, she’d hit Ten, the minimum requirement to be promoted from Recruit to Junior Guardsman! That would be great!

  Tersa prattled on, not minding that Trent didn’t have much to say until the order came to remount.

  Trent walked back to his mare that had stayed exactly where he’d left her. He thought that was sad. She had been tended to, her saddle adjusted, water provided, but he bet she’d been lonely. He took out an apple he’d kept back, and, after cutting it in half with his belt knife, fed it to her. She gobbled it appreciatively, with surprising delicacy.

  Trent patted her shoulder, awkwardly, before pulling himself clumsily into the saddle, that hateful leather contraption. The mare was alright, he decided, but he’d never forgive the saddle.

  Trent’s Riding Skill reached Level 2 before they stopped for the night. He wondered if that was fast. It still didn’t make his body any less sore. He had two healing and three Stamina potions with him. Would the Sergeant notice, if he used one?

  Of course, he would! Cullen appeared as soon as the thought occurred to the tired Summons. Fortunately, he hadn’t taken a potion out.

  Trent hadn’t been present when the mare was saddled, but Cullen walked him through unsaddling and grooming the horse. He needed a step ladder to accomplish it, but Cullen was surprised at how happy he seemed to be while doing the chore. Most recruits just wanted to collapse after a day’s ride. While Trent was stiff a
nd tired, he took genuine pleasure in caring for the animal who had served him.

  After making sure she had food and water and tying her to a picket line, Trent and Cullen joined the rest around the wagon.

  A meal, suspiciously like breakfast and lunch, was being passed around. A lot of disgruntled looks started to appear, and Cullen answered them with a smile.

  “This is the best you’ll see while we’re on the road, my fine lads and lasses, and I advise you to expect worse,” Cullen grinned. “If you’d like something better, you are free to catch and cook it yourselves, as long as you don’t neglect your duties while doing so.”

  Trent frowned. Personally, he wasn’t unhappy with the food provided. He would, however, like to learn how to catch and cook things. Maybe Cullen or Tersa would teach him.

  “Corporal Francis has prepared a watch rotation. Tersa and Trent, you’ll be up first. You’ll be waking Arisa and Lerner. Make sure you know where they’re sleeping,” Cullen directed. The other recruits got their orders from the Corporal and started setting up camp. This is a grand way of saying they put their saddles and bags near the wagon and pulled out blankets.

  It was a warm summer evening, and the sky was clear. Cullen saw no need for tents, though he allowed two small fires to be built, one for the recruits and one for the Guardsmen. The fires were more to use as a gathering point than for warmth. Cullen expected them to be out and buried not long after sundown.

  Wood was a scarce resource in the area. A small supply had been brought in the wagon, and the recruits speedily claimed their share and dug a small hole to contain the flames. The wood was set alight with the help of a Spark Spell from Arisa.

  Trent and the six recruits gathered around it. Tersa introduced Trent to the others, and the questions about who he was and why he was there were quickly answered by her. Trent didn’t need to say a word.

  He didn’t mind, just sat and watched the flames dance while Tersa explained that he was a servant of Lady Kirstin, and Cullen was training him up some. The others didn’t find this odd; Cullen was the Guard’s Master Trainer after all. Curiosity satisfied, they fell to gossiping about what the trip might bring, until Cullen called for the fire to be put out and recruits to be asleep.

  All the recruits except for Tersa and Trent; they had the first two hours of watch. One stood on the wagon bed, and one roamed the perimeter, switching after an hour. It wasn’t hard work, but Trent was so tired after it was done, that he had no trouble falling asleep immediately after they woke their relief.

  Chapter 11

  Many people found the well-lit tunnels of the Al’drossford Trial unsettling. It wasn’t that Adventurers didn’t appreciate the light. They just wanted to know where it came from, no obvious source could be seen, which made it hard to depend on.

  All Trials were different. Some would be lit by torches, some had glowing moss or stones, some were dark. Adventurers learned to adapt. They carried their own light sources and learned a night vision Skill or Spell as soon as possible. But no matter how often Alistern entered the Al’drossford Trial, he found it hard to accept light without a flame or Spell.

  Alistern, in his role as “Allen,” tried to put the thought aside as he stepped into the cavern that served as home to the fifth-floor guardian. The light was even creepier here, as it bounced off and played with fog, that also had no discernible origin.

  In fairness, Alistern was always more on edge than the rest of Kirstin’s group. There was good cause; his presence made things more dangerous. The Duke’s daughter and her friends weren’t aware of his Level, but the Trial was, and it liked to throw extra challenges at high-leveled persons.

  Traps were more dangerous and harder to spot; monsters were a little bit smarter or stronger than they should be in the early parts of the tunnels. Alistern had to watch for them all. As the party’s Rogue and the Duke’s sworn man, it was his job.

  Kirstin and the others crept closer to where Alistern stood. Didn’t they understand that they were supposed to wait for him to scout the situation? They were always so impatient. That was more frustrating to Alistern than anything. He was used to working with professionals, and this group was a long way from that.

  He waved them back. “There’s a fog; it’s hiding,” he whispered shortly.

  “How can it be hiding?” Dirk said in a hoarse voice that he imagined was a whisper. “It’s a seven-foot-tall bull; we should be able to see it a mile away.”

  “We’ll have to flush it out.” Kirstin discarded the stealthy approach and walked up next to Alistern. “Matt, can you burn this off?”

  Matthias looked at the fog doubtfully. “I can try, but succeed or not, we’ll draw attention.”

  “That’s the idea, easier to see it if it comes to us,” Kirstin said, rolling her shoulders and setting her stance. “Dirk on point. Matt, cast for the center of the room.”

  Dirk drew his war-hammer and hefted his shield, moving forward. Mathias and Joel took positions to either side of the tunnel opening, and Lyra stood between them.

  “Can I remind you all,” Alistern stated, “that the tunnel will close behind us as soon?”

  Matt cast a fireball into the large open cavern. Alistern had wanted to point out that once they attacked, the room would seal shut, and their current position would then be between a charging minotaur and a literal hard place. But the party didn’t take direction from “Allen.” Kirstin led here.

  The Fireball hit the floor fifty feet away, where Matt assumed the center of the cavern was. The Spell splashed against the floor, impressively, and red flames rippled outwards. It did absolutely nothing to the fog and caused no damage to the floor guardian, as the beast wasn’t near. It did look pretty enough, flashing and flickering as it roared.

  A second roar sounded to the party’s left, as the minotaur announced its presence. Dirk turned toward the sound, and the others shifted their positions around him. The fog limited their sight, but it couldn’t hide the bull for long as it charged forward at the interlopers.

  It was commendable how Dirk remained calm in the face of the massive beast’s headlong rush. The Defender planted his feet and activated his Enraging Aura and Immovable Skills. In Alistern’s opinion, this was less commendable. The beast was already enraged. It was probably always that way, and Immovable did not mean invincible.

  Dirk met the minotaur’s charge head-on. He grunted when the bull’s lowered head and horns slammed into his shield, rocking him back. In obvious pain, Dirk managed to hold the beast in place, at least for the moment. He slammed the bull with his hammer and activated Shield Bash.

  A smaller opponent would be knocked back by Shield Bash, but the seven-foot monstrosity merely straightened up and swung its massive fists at Dirk’s head, in a wild haymaker. Dirk kept his shield up and absorbed the blow while the rest of his companions moved to attack.

  Alistern swept past Dirk on the right, his longsword thrusting at the beast’s side and scoring a solid hit. The hardest part of this battle would be to hold back just enough so that the others didn’t realize he wasn’t what he seemed.

  The beast bellowed and slammed another fist against Dirk. This time its attack broke his Immovable Skill, and the Defender stumbled back from the force of the blow. His shield slipped out of position, and he was dazed. The minotaur could have inflicted a lot of damage then, but fortunately, it had turned its attention to Alistern.

  The Scout easily dodged the beast’s angry fists, though he was hit with spittle and foam as the minotaur bellowed at him. His sword flashed out again, chest, arm, side, three new wounds opened on the floor guardian’s body.

  The group was out of formation now. Joel and Matt were forced to stand idle. The battle was too close for their ranged attacks, and the wall of the cavern gave them no room to move, without drawing the beast’s attention. Kirstin paused to make sure Dirk was alright before she remembered that was Lyra’s job, and then she was at the beast’s back.

  Alistern doubted Kirstin’s a
bility as a leader, but he found no fault with her blade. The thin rapier was not the ideal weapon for a creature this size, but Kirstin still put it to good use, cutting at its neck. The damage to the minotaur’s thick hide could only be called a scratch, but it drew the beast’s attention, and as it started to turn, her blade darted in again to pierce its right eye.

  With another bellow, the beast unleashed a wild backhand at the young noblewoman, which she easily dodged. Before she could attack again, the minotaur’s hoofed foot came up and smashed down, activating its Tremor Skill.

  The cavern floor rippled from the force. Stones broke loose and flew up, hitting Kirstin and Alistern in the shoulder and face, respectively, as they stumbled back. It might have gone badly here if Dirk hadn’t managed to shake off the stun he’d suffered.

  Stepping forward, the heavily armored Defender let out a bellow, swinging his hammer to crash, devastatingly, against the minotaur’s horn, breaking the long appendage completely off. Dirk trained his Strength and put all his free Points into Constitution. Alistern thought this limited him, but say what you will, the kid could take a hit and return it, as long as his target didn’t move too fast.

  It was the minotaur’s turn to feel stunned now. The broken horn was hardly life-threatening, but the heavy blow forced the beast to a knee. Before it could counterattack, Joel managed to find a clear shot, and a broad-headed arrow found the beast’s left eye. Now completely blind, the creature had no real chance and was brought down for good a few minutes later.

  “Dirk,” Alistern said, as they stood to catch their breaths, “you have to work on your Agility.”

  Dirk had removed his helm and was wiping sweat off his face. He gave the scout a confused look. “You always say that, but…”

  “I say it, and I’ll keep saying it! This fight could have been ten times easier if you’d dodged that first charge and hit that bull with Shield Bash from the side. Between the hit and its momentum, it probably would have gone down and…”