[Tamara: That seems pretty useful! If I see a spell using only one rune then I could simply recreate it!
[Bob89: The amount of mana, timing, targeting, and the spatial and dimensional accents seems kinda important!]
[Tamara: No worries, I got this!]
After her reply to Bob89, she felt a mild wave of apprehension. Puzzled, she stopped to analyze the feeling. Where did it come from?
[Bob89: Be careful. Runes are generally easier to work with than spells, but you can still make a miscalculation that takes your life!]
[Tamara: I got this]
[Tamara: Did you notice that my skills have evolved? What do you make of it?]
[Bob89: It's probably a consequence of how you use the skill. Since you use your food to buff you for battle, you've gained higher constitution cooking.]
[Tamara: Makes sense. We should test this.]
[Bob89: I'll keep records.]
She heard some rustling as a weak voice spoke, "Hello? Is someone there? I need assistance?"
***
Warily, the half-elf stood stock still while searching the grotto with as little noise as possible, straining her senses to help detect any traps or ambushes. She was still stealthed, so whoever spoke probably detected her by her noise. The rocky walls and floor were natural formations with some flecks of shiny minerals. Caves were known to distort sounds, and since she was inexperienced with caves, she couldn't place the distance. The man could be in the next room, or some mysterious quirk of the cave could have brought sounds from miles away. Cautiously, she crab walked forward, with one hand holding her ankle chains, towards the area she heard the voice.
Barely out of the range of her hearing, the voice spoke again, even weaker than before, "My air is dwindling, if someone is present, I require assistance. Of course, my belongings are yours to take."
The voice was sincere and had the edge of desperation that convinced her he was truly in dire need of help, but she still crept cautiously towards the voice, albeit a bit faster. A little way beyond her small enclosure, she found a man slumped on the ground, who appeared to be a mage by his gear. His robe and pants were torn and matted with dried blood. His hood was pulled up and covering his face, and he clutched his staff as if his life depended on it.
Tamara whispered quietly, "Hello friend. What happened? As she expected, the echoes masked her exact location, although it revealed her general direction.
As the man looked up sharply, his hood slid down, revealing a dark elf filled with burning desperation in his eyes. Despite his predicament, the dark elf carried himself as if he owned the world.
Tamara gasped. Dark elves, one of the most despised races on the planet. They were her natural enemies, and the Elven King declared a permanent bounty on all of them, dead or alive, preferably dead.
The dark elf winced as he held up his hands in supplication and surrender. "Sir, Madame, I require your assistance. I expect, from your gasp, that you may not be on good terms with dark elves, however, I am an honorable elf. I will pay via an Oath of Service."
Now that his face was revealed, Tamara could see the dried blood from a head wound that hadn't been treated properly.
"What happened to you? Did you get attacked?"
The dark elf shook his head firmly. Despite a good effort at feigning wellness, he moved jerkily and was trembling. His skin was clearly turning blue, despite his natural ebony tone. He explained, "Not exactly. I have been low on air for weeks, barely getting enough for each day, until finally I was forced to solo powerful Warrior Ants to survive. But the blasted things barely give anything. I am a powerful mage, but even I can't hope to fight against overwhelming odds. I can either take damage or dish it, but not both at the same time." Despite a valiant effort, the end of his statement ended with a gasp. He coughed to try and cover it, but both of them knew he was desperate. Composing a demanding face and tone, he said, "Be quick about it and help me. I shall reward you well."
Slowly, Tamara allowed her stealth to dissipate. She watched the arrogant elf's face for any telling expressions, while also keeping an eye out for an ambush.
His eyes widened at the sight of an elvish woman with little to no gear. Seconds later, his face fell as he realized that there was no way she could have any air to spare. He slumped over and said, "We're both doomed. I didn't think a useless peasant girl would be the one to find me."
Watching the play of emotions on his face, Tamara realized she didn't have the gear or bearing of a conquering hero. And the chains didn't help. Replying, she said, "Ah sorry, I just arrived. My name's Tamara Owlkin, and I'll have you state an Oath of Service now."
The dark elf raised his head and laughed deliriously. "Peasant, I am on my last legs. After I've asphyxiated, you can steal my stuff, but not before. Be gone!" His last words were punctuated with a shooing motion. "There's no way you could have gotten through the marketplace without losing all your air. They probably left you with just the minimum. And not because they were being nice. You can't steal air past the 24-hour mark. Nor can you give air away at that level."
Understanding dawned on Tamara. The man thought she was a weakling that had her air stolen from her. And that explains why everyone was ganging up on her at the entrance. They wanted those six days of air.
Guardedly, she replied, "I'm no weakling, darkie. Make an Oath of Service and live. Refuse and I will leave you to your fate." His arrogance made her long to leave him to his death, but she realized that the elf truly believed she was helpless. If he was the typical dark elf, he would have tried to kill her, just for the pleasure of having one last kill before the eternal rest. Given her heritage, most dark elves would consider her a grave abomination that must be purged from the world, mayhap even granting them elevation in the afterlife. That he was simply being rude rather than stabby, she was willing to give him a chance.
Staring at the wall, he muttered incoherently to himself, "Worst case, the peasant has no air, and I won't have to honor the Oath" If he had been anywhere else, the words would have been muffled and absorbed by the world, but here, and in his half delirious state, it was clearly audible to Tamara, who promptly ignored it, in favor of the oath -- at the end of the day, if he abided by the oath, she was fine with a bit of grumbling.
Straightening up feebly, he announced in a shaky voice, "You win. I'll say the Oath now. I Solinar Brown, Battlemage of the Third Tier, 35 th level, swear a Binding Oath of Service to Tamara Owlkins in exchange for three days of Air." As he finished, he stared at her expectantly.
Tamara's eyebrows rose as she realized that this dark elf was granting her massive leeway with the interpretation of the Oath. He had really given up. Normally, a wily creature would negotiate payment, length of the Oath, and escape clauses. Looking as regal as she could muster, she graciously accepted his oath and said, "I accept your Oath of Service."
Tamara and Solinar both began glowing and a thick rope of mana appeared between them. The Last Redoubt monitored Oaths as contracts that must be fulfilled with massive penalties for failing to complete the oath, depending on how it was failed. The penalties can be as light as attribute or skill loss or as heavy as death. Death was reserved for the worst-case scenario where the Oath Master was killed maliciously by the Oath Debtor.
OATH BETWEEN SOLINAR BROWN AND TAMARA OWLKINS HAS BEEN RECOGNIZED BY THE LAST REDOUBT
Tamara gained 4 levels in Leadership and now it is 10
Tamara gained 2 levels in Sneak and now it is 16
Solinar's face was relieved as his air meter went up. But it darkened when he turned back to Tamara. He hadn't believed that the unarmored, weaponless elf would have three whole days of air to spare, much less give it to him, her racial enemy. He finally settled on a neutral expression as he looked at his new boss expectantly.
Seeing the elf settle down, she nodded and said, "Sol, are we in a good place to have a long chat or should we move?" She wanted to ask Sol about his length of service. She didn't expect him to serve for life, but s
he wasn't sure how to ask.
Solinar noted the shortened version of his name, but he was willing to give his savior a small boon for saving him. "This area does get travelers now and again, and there is one fairly weak monster patrolling this area, but it should be safe enough with two mages attacking it. What would you like to chat about?"
As she began casting healing spells on Sol, she replied, "Tell me about Air. What is it? And how do you get it?"
Sol said, "Well, Air is basically what it sounds like. Oxygen that allows you to live."
Sol looked appreciative as the healing took hold, closing his eyes as pain that he didn't realize he had disappeared. "Rune casters are extremely rare. Few have the patience or knowledge to work the magic. You are not as you appear. Far more sophisticated."
After a few minutes, Sol opened his eyes and gave a pointed look at Tamara's chains, and he commented, "Forgive me for being blunt. If you are wearing those chains for fun, you should take them off. Down here, it marks you for death. No one will want to group with you, and you are fair game for all players to steal your air."
Looking shocked, Tamara said, "They left them on me when I was brought here. Was that the reason why everyone was attacking me?"
"I don't know how you got away from that crowd, but they wouldn't outright kill you. Far beneath the surface, in many dungeons, there isn't enough air to breathe, so you must get the air from either finding it as a loot item from monsters or mining it out of the ground. Both are hard work but unless your main goal is to mine, hunting monsters is the way to go. As a dark elf, I couldn't find a group, so hunting enough monsters to keep my supply up was a constant battle."
"I expect a mage without his gear would have a hard time down here."
"Yes. I had a fortune's worth of magical jewelry, robes, and wands. All gone now." Pointing to his rags, he said, "This is all that I have now. But hopefully, not forever."
Tamara decided that she should just go ahead and ask. "Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but about the length of service, I-"
Interrupting her, Sol said, "Tamara. You saved my life, and I owe you a life debt. For as long as the debt remains unsatisfied, I will serve. No more, no less. I will make sure to inform you well in advance of any meaningful change in the debt. And be assured that everything that happens during the service will stay between you and me."
Nodding, she replied, "Sol. Thanks for clarifying. I accept your service and I admire the strength of your convictions and determination. Don't worry about your equipment. I picked up a bunch of items. I'm sure some of it will be a good fit for you."
Sol and Tamara both stopped talking as a distinct clacking noise resounded down the corridor.
"That's the patrol I was talking about. I'll mage tank it. Prepare yourself," whispered Sol, as he began casting buffing spells on himself.
Chapter 4
Tamara was glad that her weapon and armor were soul-bound to her but was a bit worried that the armor wouldn't appear due to the chains around her arms. As she willed her gear to appear, the world distorted around her as the armor coalesced around her body. Fortunately, the armor fits under the chains, but the already tight chains became even more restrictive, just a touch below unbearable. Glad the debuff from the Berserker's Rage had expired hours ago, she shuddered at the thought of being debuffed and in chains. She noted that the sword appeared in her hand directly.
She turned her attention back to the mage. The healing spell had cleaned up his wounds, and he had a noble bearing. His dark hair and skin were typical of dark elves, but his light pink/lavender eyes were fairly rare but not unheard of. His spells had grown an inch of ice armor around his robes, while he carried an ice shield and an ice spear in the other. Two spellcores leaking fire and lightning magic were attached to his arm. As she watched the elf finish his spell, a metallic globe appeared before him, expanding into a sphere as big as his head. The sphere exploded into smaller spheres and orbited around the mage.
She had heard of this spell before. It was a specialty of the dark elf battlemages that provided protection far more powerful than a mana shield. Mana shields take the damage meant for the caster without any bonuses from the armor or resistances the mage might have. Az's Shield Sphere was a bit different, however, since the material of the spell consisted of liquefied metal that could harden in a moment, the shield was naturally more durable than pure mana. It had a fixed resistance to physical and magical attacks depending on the skill of the mage, rather than their gear, which translated to a longer lasting shield.
The half-elf gawked a bit before commenting, "Ah, so you're a battlemage. That's what you meant by Mage Tanking. You're the first battlemage I've ever seen." Battlemages were mages that specialized in reinforcement magics as evidenced by his magical armor and weapon. The spellcores were another common battlemage tactic because clashing arms against an enemy didn't leave much time to chant and hand wave. In many battles, battlemages would only get those spells he prepared earlier in the form of spellcores and instant casts. Wands and scrolls were often in the arsenal of the well prepared battlemage but they required a high investment of time and money to acquire. Spellcores used up a core of a fallen enemy but provided a prepared instant cast spell.
[Bob89: That elf cleans up nicely. Good eyes.]
[Tamara: Shush. I have enough man problems.]
[Bob89: As we discussed, I will give you some visual clues during the battle. If you are parrying with a sword, I'll bathe the weapon in green, if I predict you're within parameters of your action. If it turns red, then something is wrong, either, you're going too slow, doing it wrong, or some other factor will prevent it from working. If a caster is on the verge of casting a spell on you, I'll give them a countdown counter and a red glow that highlights them, the brighter, the more likely you will get hit.]
[Tamara: So. Red bad. Green good.]
[Bob89: I'd roll my eyes if I had some. But yes. Green good. Red bad. When in doubt, move.]
[Tamara: Got it!]
She was gratified when the dark elf gaped at her once he finished preparing for the battle.
"Yes. I'm a battlemage. I specialize in front-line combat, but I also have several artillery style magics." He was still eyeing her appreciatively. "And you actually have gear. It looks pretty good even if it's beaten up. And you have seen battle... Many times." He approved stoically as he assessed her equipment.
"I told you. I'm a badass elf." Glancing down, she realized that her armor had taken a beating in the blast that she had unleashed at Hopetown. There were a number of large gashes and scorch marks, but nothing that would keep it from functioning during a fight. She would need to fix the armor soon, or she'd be in trouble in no time.
"That buff spell looks pretty cool!" She commented questioningly. She recalled some food from storage, taking some for herself and silently offering a portion to Sol.
Sol nodded knowingly at her statement. "You may not have seen it, but I used a lump of refined iron the size of a large grapefruit. It cuts down on the mana cost of the spell when using real physical components. So the mana cost goes to reshaping and moving the metal. As a bonus, I get the iron back when I stop channeling." He gave her a strange look, but he accepted the offered food. It was a bit odd to eat food before a battle, but she was his Oathmaster for now.
Looking impressed, she asked, "I need to learn that spell! Do I need a mage class to cast it?"
"No mage class needed. However, mages can channel more efficiently than non-mages." Pausing, he added, "battlemages benefit from the skill because we get attacked quite a bit, but regular mages don't bother learning it because they plan to hide behind the tank or never get hit. Keep in mind that spells require a lot of time and effort to cast properly."
"How about the spellcores? Anything special needed to make them?"
Sol took a bite of Tamara's delicious Herbal Chicken Jerky and said, "Marvelous! I had some reservations about eating human food, but this is nutritious and light, excellent for a p
rebattle snack."
Tamara beamed at him.
"They don't require a class, but you will need to provide a core and channel some mana to keep them in line. Between the two spellcores, Az's Shield Sphere, I'm using a fair amount of my mental concentration and mana."
The clacking of chitin armored ant was growing close, so Tamara activated her stealth and picked an ambush spot.
Sol's eyes bulged out and he blurted out, "50% bonus experience and 10 agility!" Being a long-lived elf, he had a good idea what was available in the markets, and he knew potions that gave 10 agility alone would be worth a fortune. One that gave a 50% bonus to experience was unthinkably expensive.
The ant must have heard the outburst, since the clacking noise came faster and louder as the monster approached.
[Tamara: I think you may have alerted the ant, but it shouldn't pierce my sneak that easily. And I'm happy you like my food!]
[Sol: I've never heard of food buffs that were this good! It's better than many potions. Do you use cores to make the food?]
[Tamara: It's all skill and preparation. Hmm. You bring up a good point though. Maybe I can figure out more effects using food.]
A Giant Worker Ant appeared at the end of the passageway. The ant was the size of a large dog. It was at least three feet long of armored insect. The forelegs had a razor sharp edge, similar to a sword, while the mandibles were large enough to cut through armor. The forelegs were formidable, but the mandibles looked like the biggest danger, they looked powerful enough to pierce armor.
As it sensed Sol, it sped up to attack him. Sol acknowledged the ant with a nod as he used up his spellcores, spells flying to intercept the monster. Lightning and fire streaked off the unfortunate insect, taking its hp down by a quarter, and its luck got worse as Tamara backstabbed it, catching the insect as it passed her ambush spot. As promised, Bob89 bathed the ant in green, the critical areas highlighted for Tamara's benefit. Her sword struck true, doing double damage, slicing into a critical spot on the ant's segmented back. Despite the critical strike, the ant ignored her running straight for Sol. Sol's dart spells were hitting at nearly 100 damage a pop, while Tamara's critical strike managed only 88 damage. The ant was unexpectedly quick, so Tamara and Bob89 modified their response times.
Escape From Litchfield Page 5
