The Classless Sorcerer's Self-Stealing System

[V2] Chapter 20: Recovery



Not before too much longer after setting out, the group reached the fifth floor wayshrine chamber.

Strangely, the dungeon's volatility appeared to have dropped to below half a percent, which made their travel significantly less arduous, thanks to the lack of frequent spawns. Bly wasn't complaining at the lack of combat though, and he imagined nobody else was either. He was freshly tapped out of just about everything, and he was barely clinging on to what little energy he had left just to keep his feet moving. Hungry, dehydrated, and beyond exhausted, Blychert was just glad to even be conscious at this point.

"The wayshrine seems to be functioning normally." Velanni said, pulling her hand away from the obelisk-like device in the middle of the chamber, "Though given earlier conditions, it might be best to travel in smaller groups, in case of a teleportation anomaly. Someone can travel back to gather the rest if everything goes well?"

There wasn't much response from the rest of the group, beyond a few grunts and nods. Nelkaar agreed, and Nazojan insisted he be in the leading group. Thus, Naz, with the body of Taren in hand, Velanni, Kagal, and Ilhrae went first.

Blychert held his breath for a few long moments, wondering if they hadn't appeared in some random section of the dungeon like before. However, a flash of light illuminated the chamber shortly thereafter, and Velanni stepped through, confirming at last that they could leave the dungeon.

The bright, blazing light of the afternoon sun stretched out across the plaza on both sides of the dungeon from the west, as the group exited the doors. Blychert was abruptly alarmed by the sheer number of soldiers, adventurers, and ordinary city folk gathered around the entrance of the dungeon, where a block of tents farther ahead appeared to have been set up.

As the group moved towards the tents, Bly could hear murmurs and excitable voices from the swiftly gathering crowd.

"There they are!" One voice exclaimed, "The Undaunted are back."

"That's Nelkaar—that's the champion of Frostwall, for you." Another voice added optimistically, "They look like they've been through hell, though…"

"Who's that… on Nazojan's back?" Said a third.

"Looks like Taren." Relayed another, "Damn shame… the Hall's got a lot to answer for."

"And they can start with the diviners." Someone replied disgustedly, "It's their responsibility. Right? Overseeing the ley lines? That's what causes all this shit, right?"

Blychert glanced at Nelkaar out of the corner of his eye, no doubt in his mind that she was listening to everything. But her expression remained sober and stalwart, and he was unable to get much of a read.

Champion of Frostwall, indeed. Bly thought to himself but continued his pace alongside her.

What came next was a bit of a blur for Blychert.

Inside the tent, several groups and individuals seemed to be tracking the dungeon as part of a task force. There were too many people and too many voices around for Bly to make any sort of sense of it. Which was all well and good, because he was promptly yanked away from everyone else and ushered into the largest of the tents, which was set up as a makeshift infirmary.

Bly counted at least twenty cots that were occupied, with seemingly varying degrees of injury, though no doubt all of them obtained in the dungeon. As the nurse led him forward, he couldn't help but to wonder just how deadly this event had truly been, and what it meant for everyone moving forward. He'd only been in Frostwall for a short time, but there was no question that his past complications had followed him here. Only time would reveal if he was responsible.

"Trelen!" Lisel's familiar voice ushered into Blychert's ears, and he barely had any time to react before a pair of arms was flung around him.

"Guh—" Bly groaned through a wince, the sudden embrace less than agreeable on his ailing body. Afternoon light poured in through the open tent flap on the far side, illuminating Lisel's hair to a burning orange, and it smelled faintly of something flowery—something sweet. Blychert smiled and patted her on the back with his good hand, "Hey, Lisel. Sorry to keep you waiting."

Pulling away, Bly got a good look at Lisel, only to realize that her right arm was in a sling, and that the side of her face had a long bandage, likely some kind of laceration. Blychert frowned, suddenly wondering how the others had faired.

Shaking her head, Lisel replied, "Not too long. We only made it out of the dungeon late last night. But there was—wait, Trelen… what happened to your hand?"

Glancing down at his left arm, Bly grimaced, not surprised in the least that she had homed in on his bandaged, bloody hand, "It's… sort of a weird story. I think the nurse wants to examine me, and then I should probably get cleaned up. After that, maybe we can sit somewhere and talk?"

"Sounds good to me." Lisel nodded, but smiled slightly, "I'm just—I'm really glad that you're safe, Trelen. I was really worried…"

And you don't even know the half of it. Bly thought to himself, but he chuckled. Extending his good arm, Bly patted Lisel on the head, "Hey, I'm alright. You don't need to worry about me. Really! It's going to take a lot more than some lousy dragon to take me down."

"Dragon…" Lisel murmured, the color flushing from her face entirely.

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"Eh-heh." Bly smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head, "I think maybe that's my cue to go. We'll talk about it later! Okay, bye—"

And before Lisel even had the chance to demand an explanation, Bly was already in the wind.

***

"You really went through all that, huh?" Lisel asked curiously.

Blychert nodded slowly, rubbing the resonance stone in his pocket between two fingers.

All things considered, it was a relatively peaceful evening.

His examining cleric had prescribed several days of magical treatment and lots of rest, which included the regeneration process of his missing appendages. Not that he wasn't glad to hear it, but Bly was certain he couldn't afford such expensive services. But the cleric simply waved his hand and said that all expenses were being handled by the Adventuring Hall.

After his medical examination, Blychert was able to clean up, bathe, obtain a fresh pair of clothes, and get a bite to eat. He'd asked if notice could be sent along to his master at the Half Full Flagon, to which a page was eagerly sent on their way. Once he was fully settled in, Bly found Lisel, and together they stepped away from the encampment, and sat down on a nearby bench just on the outskirts of the dungeon plaza.

He wanted to tell Lisel more than the basic information about what had happened, but there wasn't a good way to explain it all just yet. At least, not in his mind. Hell, he still didn't really understand what was going on with him or with his connection to the things that were happening. He trusted Lisel completely, but this was more than just about trusting someone.

If anything, he just didn't want her to worry.

"Nelkaar and the others were pretty powerful." Bly eventually replied, a causal demeanor in his tone of voice. He wanted to keep the conversation light, at least for now, and so he chuckled, "I wouldn't have lasted five minutes without them. You know? Still, it was pretty exciting. And hey, guess what? I hit level eleven!"

Lisel rolled her eyes, "You and Xander are the same person, I swear it."

"Speaking of whom," Bly began, "How are the others?"

"Vineta got the worst of it." Lisel shook her head, "Fortunately, we only got shifted to the first floor, plus we had the Glumgully Ghouls with us, and a few others. Still, there were a lot of spawns… I've never seen so many before. Xander was a bit shaken up, but the others are alright."

"How bad is she?" Trelen asked.

"She's stable." Lisel nodded, chuckling, "Pissed off at herself, more than anything. They took her away for more specialized treatment. I was okay to leave, but without my bow arm I'm basically useless. So, I 've just been hanging out around here, helping as much as I can. Xander and Bjadir joined up with one of the rescue teams this morning, since there are still quite a few delvers missing from yesterday. I really wanted to go with them…"

Blychert nodded without saying anything.

The temperature was beginning to drop, but Bly found that after spending so much time stuffed down in the dungeon, he didn't really mind the cold air. Glancing up, the stars were out in full force, painted across the sky in endless dots of light and swirling colors. Pale light replaced that of the sun, the moon idling against the backdrop of such a brilliant, stary canvas.

Despite the circumstances, it was a beautiful evening. Blychert was grateful to be alive, and even more thankful that his party members, that his friends, were still alive too. Whatever this was, Bly was certain that this wasn't the last time he'd come at odds with the dungeon, or those things seemingly and deeply attached to it. Maybe with half his party out of commission, he could try to find some answers in the city on his own.

Someone in Frostwall had to know something about… well, he didn't really know. Was it sage? Was it something else? Either way, he had to start somewhere. Bartolo would be able to help, and Alyse, if he could reach her. He couldn't rely on them for everything though. Frankly, he had to stop dragging people into his messes.

Someone else was going to get hurt. And next time, if he wasn't careful, it could be someone he cared about deeply.

"Well…" Bly said through a yawn. Standing to his feet, he gave a deep stretch, and turned to look at Lisel, "I think I probably ought to get some sleep."

"You do look pretty tired." Lisel chuckled, standing up as well. And together, the two of them began walking back towards the camp.

It didn't take them long to reach the tents. Bly entered and followed Lisel down an aisle toward his cot, slowing as they approached.

"Hey, Lisel, can I ask you something?" Bly said, after they had walked almost the whole way without saying anything else at all. Lisel turned expectingly, and so he continued, "I remember in Xander's letter a while ago, he mentioned that you had family outside the city? Do they know what happened? I mean… I guess I was just wondering why you haven't gone home yet? Seems like it would be a lot more comfortable to recover there, than in one of these cots."

Lisel seemed to think about her answer for a moment. A small smile crept up the edges of her face thereafter, and she said gently, "Isn't it obvious? I was waiting for you."

"Uh—" Bly practically gasped.

Lisel giggled momentarily, "Good night, Trelen. I'll see you in the morning. Okay?"

"Yeah… good night." Bly murmured, but Lisel was already out of sight.

She really was a caring person, there was simply no denying that.

"Ahh… the overtures of young love." Bartolo's familiar, mocking voice said all of a sudden, "How delightful!"

Blychert jumped somewhat, turning quickly and brushing aside the privacy curtain of his cot, only to see the old sorcerer sitting at the bedside chair, reading a book and looking comfortably smug. Scowling, Bly asked, "How long have you been sitting there?"

"You're the one who summoned me, young man." Bartolo shrugged, but looked up from his book with a frown, and asked in a more serious tone, "Are you alright? I spoke to one of the clerics while you were out, and she briefed me a little, though I didn't get much."

Bly sighed, "Yeah, I think I'll be okay."

"Well," Bartolo started, groaning as he stood up, "I can see that you're tired, among other things… I suppose that will do for now."

"Master—" Bly stammered, not sure how to put it for a moment. A lump was forming in the back of his throat, but he worked through it, and said, "There are… things that I need to talk to you about, and I— I just—"

"Now, now," Bartolo patted Blychert's shoulder, "There will be time to talk tomorrow, my young apprentice. I want to hear everything you have to say, and more… but, for now I want you to rest. Can you do that for me?"

Bly nodded.

With a warm smile, Bartolo hugged Bly, and murmured, "I am so glad that you're safe, Bly. If anything were to have happened to you—"

"Sheesh, old man, don't go all soft on me now." Bly chuckled, stepping back from the smothering embrace to look into the sorcerer's eyes, "I'm not completely helpless, just so you know. Not yet."

"Hm." Bartolo narrowed his expression, "I do often wonder what happened to that nice little boy I once knew, never gave his master any lip—not even in the slightest! Cute as a button, very kind, and very thoughtful."

"What? I'm not cute anymore?" Bly joked with a self-satisfied shrug of the shoulder.

"Not to me, anyway…" Bartolo tapped his nose twice, "But perhaps to someone else."

Blychert's smile faded instantly, and he felt his face grow a little warmer at that moment.

"Get some sleep, my dear boy." Bartolo started off with a chuckle, long before Bly could quip back at him, "I'll see you on the morrow!"

"Laugh it up, old man…" Bly shook his head with a smirk, before pulling the curtains across and climbing into his cot.

Bartolo was all smiles right now, but there was no chance in hell he was going to be laughing once Bly told him the truth.

And that… was simply delectable.


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