Loremaster of the Amaranthine lands

Shaking himself awake from his musings and out of his soul-space, the young dark elf found himself back in the sewer camp. When he opened his eyes, he found Bray staring at him from a few steps away. The old man watched him slowly stand up before speaking.

“It looks like you’ve made some progress, lad. I felt waves of power emanate from you a few minutes ago.”

“I’ve spent most of my Amaranth to get the fighter and the neophyte constellations completed, along with my ancestral charts. Most of my physical attributes are now over fifteen.”

“Good,” the elderly man nodded. “It’s best if you prepare well for the night. While you were out before, I’ve heard some guards prattle at the market that the scouts reported a large wave of fallen heading this way beneath the cover of the forest.”

“Do you think it will be even worse than the night before?”

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know how bad it was,” the grey haired elder looked him in the eye. “What I do know is that while you were sleeping, most of the able bodied refugees were called upon to help prepare more defences. They never did that since I’ve arrived here. The smithies had been casting arrow heads, knives and spear heads without stopping, repairing any weapon they could. It would seem that the city lord even ordered the spell weavers to get ready.”

“That means there’s going to be some serious firepower on the loose.”

“They will only act when the battle turns for the worst. What truly made folks mad was the decision that you lot would still have to fight outside the walls.”

“What?” Regis looked at the old man baffled. “Didn’t you just say that a huge ass army of fallen is coming? Why the hell would they want to send us out? Isn’t it better to fight from atop the city walls?”

“It would be,” Bray shook his head. “That’s why folks are so troubled. Lord Verner’s council declared that there aren’t enough ranged weapons or ammunition to weather through tonight’s battle. There’s also the matter of the river barges. Hundreds of refugees are waiting for them to be ready, but there’s only enough space on them for sixty or so folks. The council made it clear that only those with great enough merit will get a place on any of the boats.”

“You’re joking, right? Didn’t the bastards want the refugees out of here as soon as possible? If the ones with the highest merit get to leave, then only the defence force of the city would get a chance to leave Hunor. The refugees would be as good as dead once that happened.”

“You’re way too young to understand,” the weary old man sighed. “How many loyal men and women do you think the lord still has? How many of them are ready to give their lives for a bunch of refugees they don’t even know? Mercenaries only fight for food and money, while the talented refugees and outlanders only do it to get out of here. I’m not some army leader, but even I’ve seen this tactic before. Too many of the loyal defenders died in the past few nights to put up a strong enough defence in case the skilled refugees decided to revolt. With the chance of getting a place on those boats thrown in front of them; anyone without loyalties to the city lord would try their best to get a place for themselves and their families on those boats. Most of them will likely die tonight, but that would also be good for the city lord’s reign as well.”

“This is fucked up,” Regis felt a shiver running down on his back. “If that Verner guy lets people die just like that, what will happen to their families? They’ll be stuck in Hunor till the end.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bray asked with a sad expression as he moved a finger in front of his own neck.

“No way,” the young dark elf stuttered. “There’s no way he would…”

“He would make sure that they’d vanish in the night without a trace. I’ve already seen it happen in Salreen before. More than a hundred children and woman disappeared from one night to the next and no one knew why. People only knew that most of them were questioned by the guards before disappearing.”

“But why?”

“I’ve already told you once, lad. The tree can’t bear the pressure. I’ve heard it in the port that two more ships hit the reefs and sunk during the early morning when they wanted to get close to us along the coast and left us with more than a hundred new refugees. We’ve already been fighting over for scraps of food and other supplies, but now starvation is sure to come. There’s no game in a forest filled with the fallen and few fishes come this side of the reefs. Once the last crates of rations run out, only the Landwaker will provide us food and there’s simply too many folks trapped in Hunor with more showing up every other day."

"But this is till madness." The youth blurted out with a slightly shaking voice.

"It might sound harsh to you because you’re from a better world, but the nobles would do anything to keep their power. They still had enough soldiers to keep order before, but the past nights changed that. The more talented refugees wash up on shore, the greater the danger the city lord and his lackeys have to face. Oh, don’t look at me like that, lad! This is how things have always been for the common folks. That’s why I’ve told you to get stronger and useful. That’s the only way you’ll get out of here in one piece. I’m too old to worry about what happens to me, but you’ve got a knack for magic and with that ever busy outlook of yours, you’ll have many chances to make a good life for yourself. You know; at times like these I’d really love to have some clay around to get my hands and mind busy. Now clear your head and rest a bit while you can. You have a hard night ahead of you. “

“I…” Regis tried to find the right words, but he failed to do so. “You’re right!”

Sleep was a temptation he had to push aside with all of his will for now. Time was of the essence and he had only a few hours and elemental stones to work with. He decided to use up his three earth elemental stones to create the armour value increasing enchantments. He studied the rune formation in the thin book he got from Chera and after grabbing the scaled leather pauldrons and an earth stone, the young dark elf began his meditation.

In his slight trance, he shaped four circles that were connected in a ‘Z’ shape and filled the circles with small symbols. After going over every line nine times, he felt his arcana fuse with the now solid grey rune that resulted from the fusion of the four symbols. As he opened his eyes, he noticed a tiny rune on the upper edge of both pauldrons. With that done, he repeated the same process with the chest piece and the tasset before he had to replenish his lost arcana. The result was a ‘waste’ quality enchantment that increased his gear’s armour rating slightly. Since the sun was falling steeply by the time he finished, he could only look at the end results knowing that these will have to do for now.

{Soulbound dusk-blade shell}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Greater enchantments: 1}

{Lesser enchantments: 1}

{Durability: 125/125}

{Armour type: medium}

{Armour Value: 30}

{Soulbound dusk-blade pauldrons}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Greater enchantments: 1}

{Lesser enchantments: 1}

{Durability: 125/125}

{Armour type: medium}

{Armour Value: 22}

{Soulbound dusk-blade tasset}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Greater enchantments: 1}

{Lesser enchantments: 1}

{Durability: 125/125}

{Armour type: medium}

{Armour value: 22}

“This will have to do.” He sighed as he put on his armour.

It was somewhat surprising to finally see the rarity and armour values, but Regis figured it was due to his lore skill reaching a high enough level. The young dark elf double checked his kit before putting a dozen Landwaker fruit seeds into his side pouch. He emptied his satchel from anything that he wouldn’t need during the night, leaving only the bare essentials in it. Bray watched the youth prepare to leave while placing a few damp twigs near the fire to dry them.

“Do you have everything ready?” The old man asked.

“I think so,” Regis nodded. “I’ll leave my knapsack and the rest of the useless stuff here. They’ll only slow me down and that could get me in trouble. I think…”

Before the youth could finish his words, Bray patted him in the shoulder.

“You’ll be fine, lad. Stick close to those ramparts and to your friends. Watch your back and protect theirs. They’ll do the same for you. Now go. And remember; only fight a fight you can win. There’s no point in dying like a heroic fool.”

“Thanks for the pep talk!” The dark elf laughed as he grabbed his bladestaff along with a few of the items he repaired during his enchanting sessions and headed towards the door.

The moment the stone wall closed behind him, a shiver ran down his spine before he took a step towards the end of the alley. One step after the other, he soon reached the lower end of the marked where the workshops were. The sight of the familiar group reassured him a bit as he walked closer.

“It was about time you’ve got here!” Khan greeted him with a smirk before a pair of sword got slammed to his chest.

“These?” He asked surprised as he caught the blades.

“You’ll pay for them when you have the means,” Regis waved with one hand towards the others while raising the repaired bronze sceptre. “I also have a decent enough sceptre if either of you need it.”

“I’d be glad to take that off your hands if you don’t mind!” Fabien stepped forward to inspect the weapon.

The infernal youth grabbed the sceptre and he couldn’t stop himself from nodding several times as he studied the item.

“It’s a good enough neophyte piece. It should work fine both as a mace and as a magic focus. I’ll find a way to pay for it later.”

“Sure,” the dark elf agreed. “So, how’s everyone? Are you guys ready?”

“Not as much as you are,” Valerie chuckled as she ran her slim fingers over Regis’ new breastplate. “I’ve heard you mention getting a new set of armour, but this thing is simply beautiful!”

“Yeah,” Khan knocked on the chest piece with a curious expression. “Are you sure that you’re the poor as fuck nerd of the group and not the rich kid? You’ve said that that magic resources are expensive and yet here you are, kitted out like some nobleman.”

“Why do you think I asked for a book about enchanting earlier? Soulbound armour and weapons are the way to go for a wizard interested in enchanting.”

“It still looks cool,” Amanda added. “It’s pretty hard to make woven bronze breastplates.”

“It’s made from leather, or at least it was before I’ve infused it with bronze. Anyway; we have better things to do than talking about my gear.”

“Sure,” Quentin patted him on the back. “We’ll just let you silently rub your wealth in our face.”

The group laughed it off, but a strange sense of awkwardness still lingered.

“Where’s Sophie?” Regis asked when he noticed that they’ve been one girl short.

“I’m here,” a soft voice came from the back of the workshop. “I’m just not ready yet.”

“You’ve been ready for more than an hour now,” Amanda chided. “Don’t be shy, just come out already!”

Regis and the others watched in awe as an almost six feet tall elven woman showed up from behind a wall, wearing a fitted leather gambeson. She barely resembled to the little girl they’ve said their goodbye in the morning. Her hair was still brown and her eyes gold coloured, but her skin was much fairer white and she was a good head taller than before. Khan couldn’t stop himself from whistling in appreciation as he looked at the beautiful elf.

“Damn,” the Mongol youth said. “No wonder you were hiding back there. You could turn even a fallen back on the right path with that look!”

“Khan!” Quentin smacked him in the back of the head with enough force to make him stumble sideways.

“I’m sorry for his big mouth,” the dark skinned wannabe paladin apologised. “He is right about it though. You have grown up to be a beautiful woman.”

“Agreed.” Fabien and Regis said at the same time, making the shy girl blush even further.

“All right, enough with your drooling!” Amanda stepped protectively in front of her friend.

“Thank you all,” Sophie walked beside the half giantess. “I’m good to go if you are.”

“Then let us be off to the west gate.” Quentin eased the awkwardness as he stepped out.

“Did anything interesting happen during the day? I was busy practicing my craft and sleeping as usual.”

“Well,” Fabien touched his chin with his right thumb and index fingers. “I did witness a few small events. There was a fight between two groups of outlanders. Apparently, they were recruiting other outlanders for their guild.”

“Guilds,” Regis looked at him puzzled. “Do they still think that this is some stupid video game?”

“I highly doubt it,” Valerie shook her head as she ran her fingers along the bronze infused scales of his pauldrons again. “You’ve surely learned about guilds during history classes in school. They were an important form of associations for people of the same interest or vocations. Fantasy books and games might have turned it into a standard for adventurers, but the boot still fits in this situation.”

“True,” Fabien nodded. “Even Hunor has three known guilds that seem to be common in every town on the continent from what I’ve heard. They have a guild for the spell weavers, mercenaries and the traders. Craftsmen had small guilds as well, but from what the people I’ve spoken to said, none of the refugees agreed to band together into an actual blacksmith or any other craft guild.”

“Can you blame them?” Quentin looked at the hooded infernal. “Look around you. Wizards and mercenaries will obviously stick together to increase their strength and chances of survival, but no craftsmen would do the same. Both food and resources are limited here. Everyone is competition.”

“Back to the topic,” Regis said. “What happened to the outlander guilds?”

“About a dozen of them died before the guards locked up the rest. I doubt that the city lord will allow any new power structure to rise. It would endanger his rule.”

“It’s not up to him,” Khan waved his hand. “We can form teams and guilds like any other free people. He can’t stop hundreds of undying warriors.”

“Hundreds?” Regis raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“Not yet,” Fabien shook his head. “I don’t know how many of us are in Hunor, but judging from the people that openly claim to be outlanders, I’d say there’s about one hundred. More, if we count Natalie’s dark elves.”

“I see. That’s a lot of competition for good loot and crystals.”

“Not all of them are willing to risk their lives in the night battles. Some of them only volunteer for corpse duty and rat hunts.”

“By the way; did you guys hear anything about tonight?” Regis asked, half hoping that his fellows would know more about what Bray told him.

“I’ve only heard that a really large group of fallen is coming our way.” Khan spoke first.

“It’s worse than that,” Quentin shook his head. “Father Steon warned me to stick close to the gates and be ready to retreat. Apparently, Lord Verner decided to conscript more refugees into the defence effort by making the places on those river boats into a prize for those with the highest battle merit.”

“Wait, what?” The women of the team looked at the paladin in unison.

“There was an announcement in front of the lord’s manor that those with high battle merits will gain passage for their family and themselves. A lot of people decided to join the defenders after hearing this.”

“No wonder so many people dropped by at the workshop to buy whatever spare gear we’ve repaired.”

“What did they pay with?” Valerie asked as she looked at the crowd of mercenaries and refugees heading towards the west gate.

“Whatever they could,” Sophie said as she checked her arrow quiver. “They were desperate enough to give up whatever they had for a sword or even a knife. We were offered a lot of small brass jewelleries, a couple coins and some food. Amanda didn’t have the heart to turn them away when they started begging.”

“They wouldn’t have stopped until nightfall and those weapons were only taking up space anyways. Some of them were barely at half of their durability.”

“It’s still nice of you to help those people,” Quentin praised the tall woman. “They would surely go out there to fight tonight, even if barehanded. The chance of saving their families from starvation and the fallen made many of them ready to die. This way at least they’ll have a slim chance to return.”

“I think that’s about enough of the depressing talk,” Regis raised his voice. “Our priority is to stay alive and to make sure that we kill as many of those bastards as we can. How good are the two of you at using magic?”

“We have a few spells,” Fabien answered when he realized that the question was for them. “I’ve been trained in the family art of the Storm Knight’s path while my sister is a Sanguine Sorceress.”

“Or you can just call me a blood magic warlock like everyone else did back home,” the girl chided her brother. “There’s no point in sugar-coating it.”

“You’re a warlock?” Quentin raised his voice slightly as he looked at the young woman with a newfound caution.

“Don’t give me that judgemental look Quentin,” Valerie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t sell my soul or made any stupid deals like that.”

“I’m sure they all say that.” The dark skinned warrior scoffed.

“They might, but I’m telling the truth. Remember my succubus great grandmother I’ve mentioned in the morning? She’s my otherworldly patron. She didn’t ask for anything pricy and the contract was clear as day. All I have to do is to talk with her once every week for at least five minutes through a very simple communication ritual.”

“That’s all,” the wannabe paladin blurted out as he almost stumbled in his own feet. “You just have to chat with your great grandma and you get daemonic magic in return?”

“It’s not daemonic magic. It’s mostly blood magic. As for the reason behind the small price; she’s my ancestor. She left her own son at my great grandfather’s doorstep and never asked about him when he was still alive. She had a lot of trouble going on back then and by the time she solved those, three generations passed. Even the man she loved back then had already died. When I’ve reached out to her back on Earth, she was more than happy to find out about her descendants. I guess that she’s sort of paying her part of the child support a bit late by granting me access to some of her spells. She’s not powerful by any means, but she helped me awaken a few of the bloodline powers I’ve inherited and that was good enough for a start. Now I’m using the shards and Amaranth to grow those powers further to suit my needs.”

“Aw,” Khan winced. “Why can’t I get a demonic grandma? It would be so cool to use the blood of my enemies as a weapon against them!”

“Calm down Khan,” Regis shook his head. “You’re starting to creep out everyone.”

“Sorry about that!”

“By the way; I have a question for you Regis.”

“Ah, shit. Here we go again.” The dark elf grumbled out of instinct.