The Classless Sorcerer's Self-Stealing System

"I see…" Bartolo murmured inquisitively, rubbing the splayed ends of his illusory, auburn-colored beard from where he sat at the end of Blychert's bed.

Warm, afternoon sunlight poured in through the single window of Blychert's room, raising the dark, dusky brown interior to a light and comfortable hue. The muffled sounds of the tavern downstairs coalesced with the distinct smells of roasted pork and burning sageroot, the latter of which smoked evermore from the small dish upon the nearby desk. Bly's attending cleric insisted its healing properties were beneficial for recovery, though the constant, earthy smell was mildly irritating.

Adjusting the hempen pillow behind him somewhat so that he could sit more upright, Bly studied his master's face intently for any sign of distress. In any case, neither Bartolo nor Jilvarlok were particularly easy to read.

It had been a tricky conversation, to say the least, spanning the better part of three candle marks. There had been a lot to discuss, anyway. Between everything that had really happened back in Kelvalder, to all the things that had happened since then, including Bly's encounter with Kubranul, it was certainly a lot to digest in one sitting, even for someone as open-minded as Bartolo.

The old sorcerer sighed momentarily, "I can't say I'm surprised by all of this, truth be told. Some of the details, yes, but overall? Hard to say."

"Really?" Bly scrunched his face, not expecting that answer, not after having laid everything out so uniformly.

"I told you that I met your father many years ago. Didn't I?" Bartolo asked, and Bly nodded. The sorcerer in response, grinning somewhat, as he continued, "He was quite the dashing young man back then, so full of vibrance and charisma. Quite the ladies' man too, I must say…"

Bly rolled his eyes, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just the same." Bartolo dismissed with a wave of his hand and a small chuckle. His expression sobered thereafter, "I didn't see him again for a long time after our journeys together—it was many years later, as it happens. I was in Darskaart by then… a man in his mid-forties, if you'll believe it, tenured with the University of Greiling, and comfortable in many ways. And that's when I saw him again."

Blychert watched the emotions flex on his master's face. His expression was one of genuine fondness. The old man must have really loved Bly's father.

"He was different, you know, when we met." Bartolo sighed, "Although, time hadn't aged him nearly as poorly as it had your old master, heh. In fact, he was quite the same young man that I remembered. And… he had you with him. He spoke little of what he'd been up to in all those years, certainly not of who your mother was, though the light in his eyes had faded quite substantially. I suspected he was a changed man on his journey, for better or worse. And I…"

"What is it?" Bly insisted, after an excruciating lull in the conversation.

"I had my suspicions that he was a classless, you know." Bartolo eventually said, "Or something similar. There were signs, of course, and he was always going on about the Guild and Sage… always asking his own questions—dangerous questions, but I never pressed him on it. I valued his friendship too much to indulge his wayward curiosities. And then, there was you, this—baby boy. I often wonder what things would have been like if he didn't leave you with me, if he hadn't… simply vanished, that night. Would he have raised you better than I did? Could he have prevented all these terrible things that have happened to you—well, I don't know. Food for thought, perhaps."

"Hey," Bly replied consolingly, "Forget about him. As far as I'm concerned, you did a pretty good job. And look, I'm not dead yet! That's got to count for something. Right?"

"Hm." Bartolo offered a smile, "Don't push your luck, dear apprentice. Anyway, let me see if I can't reach out to Alyse for you. I need some time to… fully reconcile my own thoughts on everything you've said. This winter, this pale lady… there is an unmistakable connection to sage, and to the ley lines of this land. I'd already spoken to the diviners, so this doesn't leave much room for coincidence. Whatever's going on in Calvergia, this entity is likely involved, or worse, responsible. And who knows who else might be involved? We know the Guild has representatives in Frostwall, and they won't sit idly by for a matter of this magnitude."

"So, you think there's anyone around here who might have more information?" Bly figured he'd might as well ask, "I mean, I know we're talking about sage here, and I still don't really understand how something tied to the system could even have such a direct influence over things like this, but there's got to be someone? Right? I mean, someone reasonable,"

"Perhaps. Perhaps…" Bartolo nodded slowly, "Let me see what I can find. You just focus on your recovery for now. We'll see about getting back into training once you're fit."

Bly supposed that was as good as he was going to get for now. And anyway, it felt pretty good to have Bartolo in the loop now. Once Alyse was caught up to speed, maybe they could really start to put some pieces together. Who knew? Maybe they'd be able to contact his father somehow?

"You know," Bartolo stopped at the threshold of the door, turning back to look at Bly earnestly, "I'm very proud of you."

Bly could feel his cheeks flush momentarily, but he smirked nonetheless, "Keep loping on the praise, old man. It's going to go straight to my head."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Yes, well," Bartolo grumbled, "Something has to get through that thick skull of yours, might as well be this."

Bly nodded wordlessly, offering a big grin as he laid his head back down thereafter, content to take yet another nap.

It came as somewhat of a shock to Blychert the morning he received his summons to the Adventuring Hall, at the request of the Hall Keeper no less.

The last few days had been nothing but eating, sleeping, the occasional drop-in from a cleric or two, and of course plenty of time to ruminate his recent "level up" though he still hadn't come to any decisions of what to do about it. He was hoping Alyse might know what was going on with all of that, and it was best to wait until he had some real answers before he went poking around his terminal.

Lisel, Xander, and Bjadir had all come by when they could, and all the members of his delving group during the dungeon incident came to visit too, all except for Nelkaar, bringing gifts and tasty treats for his recovery. Nazojan had insisted that Bly be healed up in time for the feast that was being held in honor of the fallen adventurers, to which Bly affirmed he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Surprisingly, Jhannrick spent the most amount of time with Bly out of everyone, excluding Lisel, though Blychert didn't mind at all. Bartolo had been spending a fair amount of time away from the inn over the last few days, ever since their conversation, and so having Jhannrick around a bit more to help get through the boredom was appreciated. Jhannrick asked Bly all kinds of questions, especially about his adventures with Bold Arrow back in Kelvalder. In turn, Bly was deeply fascinated by the blood mage's own stories and magecraft, and Jhannrick had even gone out of his way to do a little bit of training with Bly.

It was still difficult though, to train. Despite having had his fingers and hand mostly regenerated by now, there was a lingering phantom pain that had to be worked through. All in all, though, it had been a perfectly comfortable recovery period. But even Bly in his condition couldn't withstand the itch to finally get out and get back into the action. Hence, his summons to the hall was surprising, but not unwelcome.

The Adventuring Hall was teeming with bodies, as Bly stepped in through the door. At least twenty or thirty individuals were scattered throughout the drinking hall portion of the establishment proper, off to Bly's left, where a hearth shaped like the face of a massive bear contained a roaring fire. To his immediate right, a long countertop stretched from one end to the other, behind which two handlers stood, and behind them the massive quest board was splayed.

"If you wanted the quest so badly, you should have been quicker to the draw."

Bly's brow furrowed, and he turned his head to look at the two figures coming down the stairs from the second floor. The one on the left was the unmistakable voice and stature of none other than Lanelc himself, leader of Silent Stray Blade. As Lanelc reached the first floor, the heavy footsteps behind him seemed to belong to a hulking, brute of a man.

Icy pale skin, a singular black, braided beard, and runic tattoos all along the exposed, unarmored sections of his body… this was an ice giant, or at least a very large half giant. He was several feet taller than Bjadir surely, who was already huge, and muscled to the teeth; evidently having to duck below the section of wood above him as he came to the bottom of the stairs.

Blychert moved towards the counter as they reached the first floor, pretending to inspect the quest board as he listened passively.

"Do not play games with me, Lanelc." The giant's voice was incredibly deep. It wasn't loud, but it certainly commanded fear, "The Hall Keeper cannot protect you forever."

"That a threat, Gurogan?" Lanelc growled, swiping his long coat aside to reveal a small portion of his dagger's hilt and blade, "We can take this anywhere you'd like. Just name the time and place."

"Hmph. Petulant." Gurogan grumbled, before turning to face the drinking hall section. That's when Bly noticed the other half giants sitting at one of the far tables, somewhat awkwardly. Instinctually, Bly clutched his fist and activated his ring, as Gurogan said in his native language, "We're done here. I've had enough of human stench for one day. Dungeon, now."

"Hey, newbie!" Lanelc said suddenly, "Already out of bed, huh?"

Although Blychert had been doing his best to blend in, pretending like he was doing anything else but eavesdropping, evidently Lanelc was still pretty sharp. Gritting his teeth, Bly turned and walked forward, stopping just short of where Lanelc and Gurogan stood.

"Just stretching my legs." Bly shrugged, "Nothing crazy. So… you've got a new quest, or something?"

Bly felt Gurogan's heavy gaze fall on him for a moment, as Lanelc snickered, "Right off this slab of meat's cold, dead fingers too. Isn't that right?"

Bly was pretty sure the giant, Gurogan, was going to rip Lanelc's head off right then and there. Which was all well and good, because he was certain that Lanelc was just looking for any excuse to wet his blade some more. Even for a slayer though, this Gurogan fellow didn't seem like the kind of person to go down very easily.

"Now, now…" A feminine voice broke through the tension in that moment. Light footsteps descended the stairs thereafter, and the person to whom the voice belonged revealed herself, "Do behave, Gurogan. Or is my quest not good enough for you?"

Bly felt his heart race a little bit faster momentarily.

Shock-white hair, blood-red armor and a black, gold-gilded cloak… it was her, the sister of mercy he'd briefly encountered back in Everden a couple of weeks ago. Wasn't she there looking for someone? Bly couldn't remember the person's name, but perhaps she'd opened a quest for just that purpose? Whatever the case, that person must have really pissed off the Church for them to have agents in Calvergia acting in this capacity.

In any case, Bly was better off keeping his mouth shut.

"Do not patronize me, woman." Gurogan huffed, but he seemed to be content to leave it there, as he brushed his way past Lanelc and Blychert.

"My, the people of Calvergia are so inviting, my heart could simply melt…" The sister smiled, though her gaze quickly turned sour as it affixed to Lanelc, "I have no business with worms. Unless, of course, that stubborn goat of yours has finally come to her senses?"

"Don't you worry, lady," Lanelc crossed his arms, "Zanka's just as excited to see you again, if not more so."

"Splendid." The sister grinned, "You know where to find me. And… oh? Who's this adorable little creature? One of your little larvae?"

Blychert gulped as the sister glared at him, hoping that his previous disguise back in Everden was enough to warrant his usual look to be more obscure.

"What's that? Your little prayer club picking on kids now too?" Lanelc scoffed amusedly, and surprisingly to Bly, he then stepped in front of Blychert somewhat, blocking the sister's vision of him, "How's about you mind your own damned business, and run along after your jolly little friend over there. Sounds like the two of you have quite the date planned today. Well? Go on, bye-bye now"

The sister smirked, and her eyes looked past Lanelc, lingering on Blychert for a moment longer than he would have liked. However, she was gone in a flash, already out the door by the time Bly took a breath.

"Bitch…" Lanelc muttered, who then wandered off without saying anything to Bly at all.

"Trelen?" Jhannrick's voice broke out suddenly, and Bly was glad to see the blood mage descending the stairs and stepping towards him, "Good, you're here. Hall Keeper's waiting for you. Follow me."