by Kevin Murphy
Dakkon’s oldest friends—Mina, Melee, and Roth—he hadn’t talked to during his recovery breaks. The three were questing nearby the city of Turlin when the tournament began, though none of them were selected. They had been expecting Dakkon to arrive in town for quite some time, and to Dakkon’s own shame, he had only ever directly talked with Roth. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak with the others, it was simply the way things had played out. Now that it had been so long since they’d spoken, he wanted to strike up fresh with them—face-to-face. Everything would be fine, Dakkon was sure, but he’d wait for them to show up all the same.
On this break, he would simply relax a little. On the next break, he might see how the warrior Damak was faring. At that moment, though, he just wanted to sit.
“Break time’s over,” said Jitan with an impatient, icy glint in his eyes. Dakkon felt that the cold expression was entirely unbefitting of a fire master.
Dakkon looked at his health bar and saw that the young master was right. It was time for another round of being meticulously flame broiled. Knowing there was no sense in delaying the inevitable, Dakkon sighed and arose.
Jitan’s chilly gaze seemed to deepen with the addition of his new, sinister grin. “You really are an odd sort,” he said while twisting a small, dancing flame between his thumb and index finger. “You can take another break if you want. Come back tomorrow—or never even. You’ve already paid me, so I don’t really care either way.”
Dakkon didn’t have the time to take a break. If he left, there definitely wouldn’t be any coming back. And now, whether it was sunk cost fallacy or not, he’d already paid for the class training.
“Just train me properly, already,” snapped Dakkon. “I’m beginning to suspect that you have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Oh really?” Jitan walked toward Dakkon, spreading the fingers of both his hands as he pointed his palms toward Dakkon. “I’m beginning to suspect that you need a little extra heat.”
Before, Jitan had used only a small, lighter-sized flame to scorch ‘key points of mana flow.’ Now, flames leapt from all the gaps between Jitan’s fingers, fully enshrouding Dakkon in a sheath of flame.
Dakkon grit his teeth against the heat and sudden pain, ignoring his first instinct to lunge at Jitan and his second instinct to run around flailing.
[Jitan has burned you for 33 points of damage.]
[Your mettle has been tested. Your resolve unwavering. You have gained a rank in Steadfast!]
[Jitan has burned you for 26 points of damage. Remaining HP 616/675]
At the very least, his hit points were draining so fast that the torture couldn’t go on much longer. Though his body writhed from the grip of flames, he managed to stay standing.
[Jitan has burned you for 31 points of damage.]
[Jitan has burned you for 33 points of damage.]
[Jitan has burned you for 30 points of damage.]
[You have learned the new class Evoker (Fire) in the old way, forgoing the easier path. To reward you for your unwavering determination by going well beyond what others would endure, class experience progression will be sped up by 20% over the next hundred days.]
[Jitan has burned you for 34 points of damage.]
“Stop!” yelled Dakkon.
[Jitan has burned you for 36 points of damage. Remaining HP 452/675]
Panting from the pain, Dakkon lunged at Jitan who casually stepped out of the way and ceased barbecuing his apprentice.
After a moment of cooling down and reexamining his notifications, Dakkon couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What exactly does it mean, by learning a class ‘the old way, forgoing the easy path?’”
“Oh, so you did learn after all?” said Jitan. “Excellent.”
“You mean to tell me that there’s an easier way to learn pyromancy?” asked Dakkon, his patience rapidly dwindling.
“Not from me there isn’t,” said Jitan, impassively. “This is how I learned, and it’s what provides the best results.”
Dakkon, upset though he may have been, was happy to be through with the ordeal. So, for now his glare of indignation toward Jitan would have to be enough.
“No need for that,” said Jitan. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you’d be able to do it. You’re the first one, you know. Congratulations are in order.” Jitan turned and exited the chamber, raising a palm to show that Dakkon shouldn’t bother to follow.
The approval worn on Jitan’s face pacified Dakkon somewhat. Perhaps the young NPC’s unreasonable expectations and inhumane methods were simply a result of him being an idiot when it came to certain things. Dakkon had known a few real people who were the same way, and—if he really thought about it—they tended to act just as proudly as Jitan had.
The door reopened to show Jitan carrying a red sash like the ones Dakkon had seen others wearing out in the large, main room of the Flickering Fane. Jitan held it out, offering it to Dakkon.
“Welcome to the Circle of Flame, ember.” After the sash had been received, Jitan said, “To blaze brightly, you’ll need to stoke, breathe, and burn. The next hundred days will be the best opportunity any trainer can hope to give their apprentice.”
Though there seemed to be a reason behind Jitan’s actions, it certainly didn’t excuse torching him when there was an easier way. “You really ought to have given me that choice,” Dakkon said.
“I wouldn’t consider it. Though my students will be few in number, they will burn more brightly than their kin,” replied Jitan. “It is how I choose to lead.”
Dakkon could see no point in arguing. Now that the ordeal was over, he would be stronger for it. Instead of taking the time to express his real feelings about being burned for the better part of an hour, he needed to get going.
Examining his new sash, Dakkon brought up its properties:
|Name: Circle of Flame Initiate Sash
|Item Type: Armor – Cloth
|Durability: 50/50
|Armor Rating: 8
|Ability: Flame Focus I
|Description: This red sash is the lowest ranking adornment associated with the Circle of Flame, an order of fire mages located in Turlin. Fire spells invoked while wearing this focus increase in potency by 10%. While all Circle of Flame sashes enhance their wearer’s power, the red sash also improves the rate at which new fire evoker skills can be learned.
By the time Dakkon had stopped looking at his new belt, Jitan had already left the room. The abrupt departure didn’t matter much to Dakkon, who’d gained what he had come for. On the contrary, the sudden privacy gave him an opportunity to review his stats and newly acquired skills.
|————
|Statistics ( ][][ ) ( ][][][ )
|————
|Strength: 23 — (20 + 3 Equipped) ( ? )
|Stamina: 25
|Agility: 64 — (50 + 14 Equipped)
|Dexterity: 48 — (45 + 3 Equipped)
|Intellect: 23 — (20 + 3 Equipped)
|Luck: 50
|Free Stat Points: 10
|Hit Points: 675/675
|Endurance: 363/363
|Mana Points: 625/625
|Level: 25
|EXP Until Next Level: [_____3,366/6,660 ]
|————
|Traits ( ][ ) ( ][][][ )
|————
|Appearance – 8 (Equipped)
|Climber – 2— 49% [___________ ]
|Disciplined – 12— 62% [______________ ]
|Heroic – 3— 27% [_____ ]
|Hunter – 9— 42% [________ ]
|Rider – 3— 27% [_____ ]
|Steadfast – 3— 3% [_ ]
|Stealthy – 4— 80% [_________________ ]
|Thick – 2— 15% [___ ]
While he had no practical way to gauge its effect, Appearance supposedly altered how NPCs perceived him with as little as a glance, so he supposed more was better. Each rank in Climber improved his stamina reserves while climbing—though the climb speed itself depended on how
strong and heavy he was. It had been almost irrelevant before, but ranks in Disciplined made it so Dakkon was less likely to be interrupted while casting spells. Heroic improved his critical strike chance; Hunter improved his damage against animals; Rider reduced riding fatigue; Steadfast increased non-physical resistances to harmful effects; Stealthy decreased the likelihood of being detected by circumstances outside of his control; and finally, Thick increased his damage resistance at the cost of making his physical features appear thicker and thicker—so, despite the obvious benefit of a little extra damage resistance, Dakkon was trying his best not to over-level this particular trait.
There had been no chance to grow his level or abilities during the haste to get to Turlin, though he had managed to get an increase in his ‘Steadfast’ trait from the frightening torture he’d just paid top dollar for. Dakkon was glad he had held onto the extra 10 stat points. Now that he was officially a damage-dealing caster class, they were certain to come in handy.
After distributing all of his extra stat points into intellect, Dakkon’s mana pool increased by a respectable 250 points, meaning he should be able to cast spells far more liberally now. Between his new sash, mana pool, and the bonus received from learning fire wizardry the ‘old way,’ he expected training to be a breeze compared to when he started dabbling in thermomancy.
|————
|Classes
|————
|Primary Class: Edgemaster
|Class Level: Null
|EXP Until Next Level: [||||||||||||||||||||N||||||||||||||||||||||]
|Skills:
|+Mastery – 1— [||||||||||||||||||||N||||||||||||||||||||||]
|+Edge – 2— [||||||||||||||||||||N||||||||||||||||||||||]
|Special: Edgemaster is locked as your primary class.
|Special: Classes may not be changed or removed.
|
|Secondary Class: Evoker (Fire) – 80% Power (from multiclassing)
|Class Level: 1
|EXP Until Next Level: [ 0/300 ]
|Skills:
|+Flame Lick – 1— 0% [ ]
|+Burning Sigil – 1— 0% [ ]
|Passive: Incoming fire damage reduced by 10%.
|
|Secondary Class: Thermomancer – 80% Power (from multiclassing)
|Class Level: 30
|EXP Until Next Level: [ 240/8,160 ]
|Skills:
|+Thermoregulate – 29— 92% [___________________ ]
|+Heat (Touch) – 26— 13% [__ ]
|+Chill (Touch) – 25— 77% [________________ ]
|+Hotspot (Area) – 22— 80% [_______________ ]
|+Condense – 1— [______________________]
|+Thermal Sight – 2— 70% [__________________ ]
Now that he had a third class, Dakkon caught a glimpse of what his distant future could look like. If he made good decisions when selecting new classes, he might just manage to have a long list of useful abilities. The evoker (fire) class also came with an unexpected passive benefit of taking reduced fire damage. It was a welcome surprise, but it made Dakkon wonder why his clunky edgemaster passive abilities were instead labeled with the word ‘special.’ Putting that matter aside, he was eager to read about his two new skills:
|+Flame Lick: This low-damage skill produces a small flame which can be useful to start fires.
|+Burning Sigil: This skill allows its user to draw a line of tiny, glowing runes which can be ignited to burn at the caster’s whim. Ignited runes may continue to deal damage so long as their fire continues to burn.
Another skill to light fires was unfortunately redundant. Dakkon suspected that was the first ability that Jitan had used to ‘train’ him. Burning Sigil sounded a bit more interesting.
While focusing on the tip of his upraised index finger, Dakkon visualized a small flame springing from the tip of it. It took a considerable amount of concentration to make the flame appear—far more than he would have anticipated. It felt like he was learning thermomancy skills all over again.
“This can’t be right,” thought Dakkon. “There’s no way learning ‘Flame Lick’ should be this—”
Dakkon’s thought was cut off as the tiny flame at his finger tip erupted a meter upwards.
“What!” Dakkon yelped, his concentration dropping as he threw his flame-spewing hand away from his face.
What had caused that? Uncertain, Dakkon attempted to recreate the situation.
Dakkon held his same finger upright, and visualized a small flame until one appeared. After about thirty seconds he thought, more slowly this time, “There’s no way learning ‘Flame Lick’—” and his finger’s flame shot upward once again.
Dakkon pointed his finger at the wall and thought the name of his other new skill, ‘Burning Sigil,’ and an orange dot appeared like a laser pointer. With a swish and flick of his finger, the pattern he drew set itself on the dark marble wall.
“Burning Sigil,” Dakkon thought again. The symbol he’d drawn sizzled as a small wreath of flame coiled out from the freely-drawn line.
Did that mean that fire spells only required you to think about what you wanted to do and then think or utter the skill name? Dakkon wanted to believe that was the case. But, as he thought about the long hard hours he’d spent practicing thermomancy, he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He pinched fingers and thumb together. Without any particular effort, he thought about the cold and uttered, “Hotspot.”
Drawing his fingers apart, he drew a bubble of floating air. When he stuck his arm through it, his stomach sunk further. The air was cold. The absurd difficulty which Dakkon had endured while learning thermomancy had been unnecessary.
After a brief flare of indignation, Dakkon relented in his thoughts, “Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be so trying. What kind of gaming experience would that have made for people?”
Dakkon raised his index finger and thought the skill name, “Flame Lick.” Rather than the torrent of flame which he’d expected, a piddly flame of no practical use arose from his finger.
Confused, Dakkon looked at the flame as it danced with the coming and going of his breath. Once more he conjured the flame. Without invoking the skill’s name, he concentrated to produce a flame of about the size that might arise from a thin wax candle.
“Flame Lick,” Dakkon thought. The tiny flame erupted like a geyser to a height of three meters. With the waggle of Dakkon’s index finger, the whole pillar of fire danced like a new year’s dragon, and a wicked smile crept its way onto Dakkon’s face.
It was a foolish mistake that he’d never before tried to activate a skill by thinking its name, but his astounding thick-headedness had actually led him to something useful. Dakkon nodded as he admired the geyser of fire spouting from the tip of his finger. His arm felt cold, as though the flame was being fed by his body heat. Despite his newly expanded mana reserves, within a few seconds, Dakkon was completely drained of magical fuel and the mana-starved pillar of fire was dispelled. It didn’t matter to him that his new trick was a resource hog. If it gave him an edge, he’d use it.
The capabilities of this new-found ability would require some additional testing that he simply didn’t have the time for. After a short rest to get back to 20 percent mana, Dakkon began to walk out from the way he had come.
As he walked past the chair of the bearded NPC who had led him through the main chamber of the Flickering Fane, Dakkon relented. “For what it’s worth, Aramon, you were right. I really didn’t want to do it like that.”
“See?” replied Aramon with a dismissive shrug. “No one listens.” The older man shook his head and readjusted himself on his seat to find a more comfortable angle.
“Hey… Dakkon,” Dakkon heard Cline’s voice from inside his own head.
The experience of mental communication had been bizarre at first, but Dakkon was getting the hang of it. Thinking about his friend, Cline, established the link—a sensation that felt like mentally pulling a string to tension.
“Hey, could you maybe come down here? I’ve got some difficult-to-carry adventuring gear and could use an extra hand,” thought Cline with a hint of urgency.
“I was just about to head your way,” responded Dakkon.
“Could you, perhaps, make it sooner rather than later?” asked Cline. “I’m starting to get a really bad feeling about being here.”
“Have you had any trouble?” asked Dakkon, mentally.
“No. No trouble… But, I seem to be sort-of sticking out here with all of these supplies. You know, like I’m planning to stay well and clear away from the city for a while. I don’t think I’m selling the whole ‘nonchalant buyer’ vibe very well. I probably look more like I’m running supplies for tournament participants.”
“Oh,” thought Dakkon. That was a problem. Though it was a scenario he hadn’t thought of, it was possible that even if they weren’t recognized as participants in the tournament, they could be followed back to their temporary safe house. “All right, I’ll get there as quickly as I can without looking suspicious.”
“Thanks…” Cline transmitted. “Honestly though, I don’t think you running here at full tilt would make us seem much more conspicuous than I look right now.”
“What do you—Never mind. I’m on my way,” responded Dakkon, severing the mental link.
Taking Cline’s words to heart, Dakkon began to sprint.
\\\
The commotion in the marketplace would have been impossible to miss. Despite people trying to keep well away from one another, a crowd had managed to amass. Even in times of uncertainty and unrest, passersby will stop for a spectacle. At the approximate center of the crowd, Dakkon could see a ladder and two long poles poking up above onlookers’ heads.
“Cline,” Dakkon thought about his friend to try and establish a mental link. “Tell me you’re not the one with the ladder.”
