Luckborn

Greaves opened a drawer, withdrew a small wooden case wrapped in oilskin, and set it on the table with a muted thud. Roughly the size of a thick book, the case was bound tightly with cord and sealed with an unfamiliar wax sigil—jagged lines radiating from a central point, like a cracked sun.

"This is going to the Guild outpost at Halverik Marsh. Ever heard of it?"

Otter raised a hand. "Yeah. It's not far from Brighthaven—about a day and a half northwest, right?"

"Right. Quiet place, mostly. Not ideal for settlements. You've got the usual—bushwhackers, hermits—but the only reason we maintain an outpost is to monitor for Kaosborn nests. They pop up now and then, though it's rare. More often, it's swamp rats, gators, and enough bugs to eat your boots. Most couriers won't go near the place, but I figure you lot can handle it."

"What's in the package?" Milo asked.

Greaves shrugged. "No idea. Not my concern. Not yours either. Just make sure it ends up in the hands of a Guild member at the outpost."

"Sounds simple enough," said Jasper.

"There's a carriage leaving for Brighthaven tonight. Be on it. Check in at the Brighthaven branch when you arrive, and again once the delivery's made. Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good." Greaves reached back into the drawer, counted out twenty-five silver Alms, and slid them across the table in a neat stack. "Your pay. Five Alms each. See you when you get back."

As they stood to leave, Greaves said, "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. A letter came for you, Bennett." He turned to a stack of papers and rummaged through them until he found a plain envelope addressed to Otter and handed it over.

Otter looked at it, but couldn't tell who it was from, so he stuck it in his pocket, deciding he'd read it later.

As soon as they walked out of Greaves's office, their wrisplays buzzed in unison.

XP Gained

New Objective: Deliver the package to Halverik Marsh.

Otter swiped to his profile page. It had been a while since he'd checked it.

Name: Dwayne Shi'longh Bennett (Otter)

Level: 2 XP: 1900

Class: Luckborn Life Force: 12

BAB: +1 AC: 11

Stats

STR 9

DEX 9

CON 9

INT 10

WIS 9

CHA 9

Luck 18

Skills

Alchemy Novice- Lvl 3

Cartography Novice- Lvl 1

Handyman Novice- Lvl 1

Investigation Novice- Lvl 1

Jumping Novice- Lvl 1

Knowledge (Entomology) Novice- Lvl 3

Knowledge (Mathematics) Novice- Lvl 2

Knowledge (System Mechanics) Novice- Lvl 1

Navigation Apprentice- Lvl 6

Observation Apprentice- Lvl 5

Persuasion Novice- Lvl 3

Reading Apprentice- Lvl 5

Survival Craft Novice- Lvl 2

Swimming Apprentice- Lvl 5

Writing Novice- Lvl 4

Available Skill Points: 1

Proficiencies

Weapon- Rapier

Armor- Light

Class Features

Jack of All Trades- Luckborn can assign skill points to any skill without restriction.

Beginners Luck- Whenever a Luckborn attempts a skill in which they have no ranks, they may roll 1d20 + their Luck modifier as a special check.

If the total is 20 or higher, they immediately gain 1 rank in that skill, and it is treated as a Class Skill from that point forward.

With a 19 or less, it remains an untrained skill and receives no bonuses on subsequent skill checks, until they reach the next level, at which time, they may try again.

Luck's Whisper- Luckborn are subtly attuned to the murmurs of fate and chance. Whenever the Luckborn passes within 5 feet of a hidden object, trap, secret passage, concealed clue, or otherwise unnoticed feature, they become immediately aware of its presence. Upon triggering this awareness, the Luckborn must immediately make a Reflex save. Failure requires a price.

Lucky Shot- You may add your Luck modifier to attack and damage rolls with ranged or finesse weapons.

Stat Flux- On level up, each Stat has a 16.66% chance to increase by 1. This replaces typical Stat increases at later levels.

Bend Luck – You gain a number of Luck Points per day equal to half your level (rounded down). You may spend a Luck Point to gain advantage on any roll.

Current Objectives:

Deliver the package to Halverik Marsh.

He'd gained 100 XP from completing that first mission. While that was only a small fraction of what he needed to reach Level 3, it would add up. His biggest concern with his stats at the moment was his Armor Class. It had been a problem all year long. He'd gotten better at scoring hits with his rapier, but he had trouble getting out of the way and parrying. His set of leather helped a bit, but not nearly enough. He knew there were magical means of protection out there, but they were way out of his price range.

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***

The carriage rolled out of Aurelia just as the sky began to darken, soft purple spilling across the horizon. Street lanterns flickered to life behind them, but ahead, the road stretched into shadow.

Otter leaned against the frame of the window, watching the last edges of the city slip from view. It was the third time he'd made this trip, but this time felt different. He wasn't going home. Not really. He doubted he'd have time to see his mother. This was a work trip.

"Now this," Jasper said, settling back with an exaggerated sigh, "this is how civilized people travel."

"You mean spoiled people," Sage muttered from his corner, also staring out the window.

"Don't be jealous just because I know how to appreciate life."

The interior of the carriage was cramped but not unpleasant. Made for a total of six people, the passenger compartment had no room to truly spread out. Packs and weapons were tucked under benches or bundled in corners. Erin sat with one leg tucked beneath her, eyes half-lidded, a piece of dried fruit slowly disappearing between bites. Milo, closest to the rear door, sat with a book in his lap. While the sun had set, several glyphs in the compartment allowed passengers to adjust the ambient lighting to their satisfaction.

They'd decided to delay restocking their supplies until Brighthaven. Otter had promised it was the best place to find marsh-ready gear and rations without paying triple in Aurelia.

For now, there was nothing to do but wait.

Otter rummaged in his bag and withdrew the cream-colored envelope Greaves had given him, the seal still intact. He'd nearly forgotten about it in the rush of packing and making sure they weren't late for departure. Now, in the relative quiet of the carriage, it seemed to ask for his attention.

He cracked the wax and unfolded the parchment.

Otter,

Thank you for your prompt response. Your reflection was thorough, honest, and—perhaps most importantly—unemotional. That speaks to progress, whether you feel it or not.

Now I would ask you to consider a different question: What worked? Which courses, instructors, or experiences did the most to help you grow this year? What prepared you best for real challenges? In short—what should the Academy preserve, not just repair?

We cannot design a better future for students like you unless we understand what served you well in the first place. I trust you'll answer with the same care.

– B.

Otter read it twice, the familiar loops and clean lines of Blackwood's handwriting oddly comforting. He retrieved his journal and a pencil stub, then angled toward the light and began writing.

Things That Helped Me Survive Year One:

• Combat Basics – not because it made me stronger, but because it made me act. Think faster. Move even when scared.

• Monster Identification – forced me to look past the surface. Every creature tells a story.

• Alchemy (eventually) – not on its own, but with Milo's help. He's a better teacher than he realizes.

• Sage – taught me to listen before speaking. And to notice what people don't say.

• Erin – not sure how to write this one. Maybe just: made me feel seen.

• The Ruins – I lost something down there. But I found other things. Things I wouldn't trade.

I still don't feel ready. But I don't need to. I'm not frozen anymore. I can keep learning.

He stared at the list for a long time. Then he frowned.

This wasn't helpful—not really. It was true, yes, but it was personal. Too personal. His friends weren't part of the curriculum. The Ruins were a unique experience. This list was what helped him, but it wouldn't help Blackwood shape anything for the next group of first-years with new Classes.

He turned the page and started again.

This time, slower.

Courses and Experiences That Helped Most:

• Combat Basics – Not just for physical readiness, but mental resilience. Learned how to move even when scared. Should be required for everyone, even support classes.

• Monster Identification – Sharpened my ability to notice details quickly. Helped me recognize threats, signs, patterns. Essential in the field.

• Adventuring Fundamentals – Gave me a practical framework for how to think like someone responsible for others. Taught me about roles within a team. Should be required.

• Alchemy – Hard at first, but it got easier once I understood the "why" behind the reactions. Not for everyone.

• Choosing my own courses helped. Made me feel like my path was mine, even when it was unclear.

• What helped most wasn't a class—it was the people. I had friends who taught me things instructors couldn't. I don't know how you design for that. Maybe you can't. But students need community, even the ones who don't ask for it.

This time, he nodded to himself when he finished. Not just honest—useful.

He closed the journal and leaned back, pencil tucked behind one ear.

Across from him, Milo looked up. "What are you working on?"

"A project for Blackwood. Haven't I mentioned it?"

Milo shook his head.

"Oh. Well, he's trying to prepare for an influx of students with foreign Classes. He's hoping I can provide some insight on how to do that. Or at least give him some things to ponder."

"That's smart. You definitely have experience with an unknown Class."

Outside the carriage, the fireflies still danced. The road wound forward beneath the wheels, smooth and steady, carrying them into the night.

***

By the time they reached the Brighthaven Adventurer's Guild, none of them wanted to be in a carriage ever again.

Two nights and a full day of cramped benches, constant bumps in the road, and Milo's increasingly dramatic sighs had worn them down. Even Jasper, who had initially praised the nobility of "riding like a king," had been reduced to muttering curses about stiff joints and rotten upholstery.

So when the driver pulled up in front of the squat, stone building tucked just off the main square and informed them this was the end of the line, no one argued.

The Brighthaven Guild Hall was smaller than the one in Aurelia—barely more than a double storefront—but the same crossed sword-and-wand sigil marked the door in iron.

Sage pushed through first, with Otter and the others behind her. Inside, the air was cooler, the stone floors clean but worn. A clerk looked up from behind a counter stacked with wax-sealed scrolls and ledger books. He was middle-aged, wearing square spectacles, and had the bored, practiced efficiency of someone who'd seen too many rookie teams in one week.

"Can I help you?" he asked without preamble.

"We're Auxiliary Seventeen-B," Sage replied smoothly. "Reporting from Aurelia. Handler Greaves sent us to deliver a package to the Halverik Marsh outpost."

The clerk flipped a page in his logbook and made a quick notation. Then his eyes flicked to Otter. He tilted his head, studying him. Then his eyes lit up. "I remember you. You ever find that bounty hunter you were looking for?"

"Sort of. I saw on a boat leaving the docks."

The man sucked his teeth. "Well. Look at you, now. Doing a man's work."

Otter shifted uncomfortably. "I guess so."

The clerk gave a small nod, apparently satisfied. "Outpost's three days on foot from here. Longer if the rains are bad. Stick to the eastern trail—old slate markers every half mile. Don't go wandering into the low fogs. They swallow people."

Milo raised a hand. "Like, metaphorically or…"

"Not metaphorically," he said, cutting him off.

Milo lowered his hand.

"Any supplies you need, speak to Bob down the street. Show your badge, get the Guild rate. There's a cheap inn across the square if you need to rest. We don't have spare bunks here."

"Thank you," Sage said.

The clerk waved a hand. "Try not to die."

They stepped back out into the street, blinking against the late-morning light. The bustle of Brighthaven flowed around them—fishermen hauling crates, vendors shouting over each other, carts creaking beneath fresh-picked produce.

But none of it felt familiar to Otter.

He'd walked these streets dozens of times. Knew every alley, every shortcut, every roofline. But now it all looked… smaller. Like someone had taken his memories and shrunk them just enough to feel off.

They weren't here to visit. They were here to work.

Erin clapped him on the shoulder. "We should stock up. I'll handle food and fresh water."

"Rope, tarp, extra socks," Sage said. "The marsh won't be forgiving."

"Also something for biting insects," Milo added. "I read a journal that said the swamp midges out here can get aggressive."

"I think I saw a guy selling bug balm made with all natural ingredients," Jasper said. "Real artisan vibes."

Milo gave him a funny look. "What other kinds of ingredients are there?"

"How should I know? You're the alchemy whiz."

They split off in pairs to shop. No sightseeing. No distractions. Just preparation.

Otter led Sage to Bob's General Store. Bob had one eye and zero interest in conversation. Otter bought a short coil of knotted climbing rope, a new waterskin, and a flat waxed pouch for his journal.

They regrouped at the inn for lunch, gear freshly packed and trail rations distributed. The Brighthaven sun beat down in earnest now, and Otter found himself grateful for the narrow strip of canvas above them.

Sage glanced up at the sky. "If we leave now, we'll cover decent ground before dark."

Otter made eye contact with Erin, who said, "About that. Otter and I are both from the city. It would be a shame not to say hello."

"We aren't here for pleasantries. We're here for business," replied Sage. "I imagine the Guild would like that package delivered as soon as possible."

"But we'll be walking into unfamiliar terrain tired," Milo said, sitting heavily on a bench. "We just spent two nights in a box on wheels. My brain still thinks it's moving. We'd all be better prepared with a good night's sleep under our belts. I can't imagine we'll get that in the marsh."

"The kid has a point," Jasper agreed.

"Kid? I'm two months older than you, Jasper."

Jasper shrugged. "A hot meal and a warm bed would be nice. But after being trapped in that carriage so long, I'd be okay getting a few miles on foot, too."

Otter shifted his pack on the bench beside him. "We wouldn't be staying long. Just overnight. We could be out first thing in the morning. Besides, I'd kind of like my Ma to meet you all."

Erin looked troubled. "I do see Sage's point, though. We could get a solid five hours of travel in before making camp if we left now. That's a pretty big delay. Maybe we should leave now."

"The inn's not cheap," Sage pointed out. "And we aren't getting paid that much."

"I'll cover it," Milo said quickly. "Seriously. It's worth it to me."

Sage studied him for a moment, as did Otter. He knew Milo came from a merchant family, but they'd never really talked about money before. Such a quick offer to pay for all their rooms suggested that Milo may have significantly more money squirreled away than Otter imagined.

Finally, Sage acquiesced. "Very well. It would be nice to meet your families. It might give them some comfort to know who you're traveling with."

Otter was glad they were all able to agree. It spoke volumes about their ability to work as a team. He just hoped the delay didn't cost them in the end.