The Classless Sorcerer's Self-Stealing System

Biting cold nipped at Blychert's eyelids as he pressed forward down the dimly lit street.

Despite wearing a hood, a cloak, and a face mask, the late-autumn chill was nothing to scoff at, and the evening temperature was equally unpleasant. Every bone in Bly's body begged to return to the adventuring hall, to scoop up a tankard of mulled cider and simply settle in by the hearth fire. But in the back of his mind, Bly knew that wasn't really his place. Besides, he couldn't expect anyone to understand what he was doing, or to rationalize the "ghosts" that he was chasing. For that reason, and for all the strange things that seemed to be happening around him as of late, it was too much to ask anyone else to get involved on his behalf.

He'd come to Frostwall to be part of a team. But in recent weeks, Blychert and Trelen seemed to be simply irreconcilable identities. And if he had to choose which one was more important in the moment? Well…

"Where are you going?" Bly murmured under his breath, studying the bulky silhouette of Gurogan from quite a distance away.

The giant stood out like a sore, pale thumb amidst the empty streets of the city. Thus, Blychert was easily able to spot him as he'd excited the hall. They'd turned left down Delver's Row, proceeding north for several blocks, before moving left again due west down a narrower street. Bly was only a bit disappointed, considering Gurogan seemed to be getting farther away from the dungeon, not closer. Either way, his "quest" with the Church couldn't be ignored at this point, not with Bly's speculations up in the air. Even if the giant was only heading home for the evening, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to at least know where that was.

A patchwork of invisibility, concealment, seeing, and aura masking spells gave Bly enough courage at least to keep a respectable distance between him and the hulking giant. Even if his illusions were cut down, he could pivot pretty quickly into an appearance altering spell or simply use his enchanted cloak to make an instant getaway. Sleuthing around wasn't exactly his specialty, but he was still thankful for the variety of spells at his disposal that let him do it with more peace of mind.

Coming to the end of the street, Gurogan proceeded to cross a smaller plaza area as Bly stopped under a shaded awning at the corner to watch. The giant proceeded up a small set of steps leading to a narrow, three-story building and knocked on the door. Squinting, Bly couldn't make out any light sources through any of the windows, though he supposed the curtains could have just as easily been drawn.

"Damn, you sure run off quick." The hushed but familiar sound of Skaldan's voice said over Bly's shoulder suddenly, causing Blychert to jump forward somewhat startled. Skaldan continued, "I didn't realize you were the sneaking type."

Turning, Bly's eyes widened. Skaldan wasn't looking directly at him, per se, he was invisible after all, but it was clear that he knew Bly was nearby, despite a lack of tracks to follow.

"I'm not—" Bly stammered but realized it was pointless at this point. Dropping his invisibility, he turned, intent to watch the giant further, muttering, "I'm not sneaking around."

"Sure…" Skaldan replied. He shifted forward, following Bly's eyeline to where it was affixed on the idling giant, "So, Gurogan, huh? I had a tough time picking your trail up, just so you know. But him? He might as well have a sign on his back that reads, 'follow me', that man doesn't know the first thing about subtlety."

Admittedly, Bly's curiosity was piqued by the confession. Thus, he asked, "Manage that with blood magic?"

"I already told you…" Skaldan sighed, "It's not magic. Well, not spellcasting, anyway."

Suddenly, the door opened, and someone unseen to Bly greeted Gurogan. They seemed to exchange words or something of the sort for a few moments, before the giant stepped inside and the door closed behind them.

"I need to get in there…" Bly murmured, mostly to himself.

"The Guild outpost?" Skaldan replied nonchalantly, "Why would you want to go in there? Are you looking for work on the mainland or something?"

"Guild… outpost?" Bly looked at the other boy confusedly, "What's that?"

Skaldan snickered, "I take it you don't get out much? The Guild, not a guild, the Guild. They're sort of like the adventuring hall, but—"

"I know what the Guild is." Bly interjected crassly. He could feel his heartbeat rising with each breath he took, as the looming fear of his past experiences with the administrator flooded his mind, "I—ugh… I guess it makes sense they'd have an outpost here too, huh? Damn it all."

There was no way he could go into a place like that, it was out of the question! What if an administrator saw him? What if they saw right through him like they had that day, like—no, he couldn't risk it. After how far he'd come, to walk back into the wolves' den so willingly would be the dumbest thing he'd probably ever done.

"If… you want to get inside," Skaldan said coyly, "I can get you inside. It's just that I can't really get past enchantments all that easily. But if you can manage that? I mean…"

Bly's breath quavered, but he had enough wherewithal to shake his head, "Not worth the trouble."

"Okay…" Skaldan nodded, "But what if I told you that I was going inside, with or without you?"

"Huh—?" Bly's head snapped around to face the other boy, "Why the hell would you go in there?"

"Yeah, I'm not very good at staying out of trouble." Skaldan rubbed the back of his head with a bashful grin. His expression sobered suddenly, stone cold, as he looked towards the outpost, murmuring, "Besides, you're not the only who has a bone to pick with that guy…"

"Hmm," Bly pondered, matching Skaldan's gaze as they both peered across the plaza.

He couldn't really deny his curiosity, despite the overwhelming sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach, But it wasn't like he had many other options. As far as he was concerned, Gurogan was involved with the Church in some capacity. If he speculated a little, then it made sense for the Sister to be staying at a Guild outpost, surrounded by administrative staff. For better or worse, this was exactly the kind of "in" he was looking for.

Sighing, Blychert nodded, "Alright, let's do it."

"Don't sound so excited, Gurogan."

The sister of mercy's voice sent a chill down Blychert's spine suddenly, and it took everything within his power not to squirm from where he and Skaldan sat hidden on the second floor of the outpost, perched behind a long banister that overlooked the first-floor foyer down below.

Bly still wasn't sure how Skaldan had even gotten into the building in the first place. Despite all of Blychert's supplied illusion buffs, it seemed unlikely that Skaldan would get very far in such a place. But much to Bly's surprise, the other boy had remained true to his word, and together they'd slipped in through a second-floor window. Perhaps the only surprising thing thereafter was the presence of administrative staff, or rather the complete lack thereof.

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The halls and rooms were vacant, completely dark and uninhibited. There were no lanterns, no accommodations, just… nothing. For a guild outpost, it certainly seemed abandoned. But for Blychert, that was the most unsettling thing of all.

"I do not like to be kept waiting." Gurogan huffed.

Even though he couldn't fully see the pair downstairs, it was easy for Bly to listen to their conversation. The first floor was dimly lit, perhaps only a candle or two, which made it painstakingly quiet. Blychert wasn't sure they would have made it all that far inside if he hadn't dumped a ton of mana on them just to bolster their stealth.

"But this is a waiting game." the sister seemed to tease, "I'm certain your Jarl would agree."

"Ith keird'da maegh." Gurogan replied, a certain bitterness in his voice, "Do not speak to me as if you were one of my ilk. You are uthlak—an outlander. Were it not for our agreement, I would stomach your foul odor no longer. But know this, we are not the same."

"And yet," a hoarse, even-toned voice spoke from somewhere else in the darkness. The sound of a wooden door closing echoed out, and footsteps followed, as the voice continued, "Were it not for our merciful sister, your raiders would have been picked clean from here to the forest's edge. Then what would become of Icestone's fallen hero? I'm certain the good graces of your jarl do not fall short of expectation."

A cold sweat suddenly began to build on Blychert's brow.

He knew that voice.

No, he could never forget that voice.

More footsteps echoed, and soon a figure passed into view from down below. Despite the dim brightness of the candles, it was as clear to Bly as if daylight had sprung through the room, which entering into the conversation was none other than Administrator Caelus himself.

"I…" Bly mumbled in whisper, his entire body tensing as he slowly inched backwards.

The very sight of the administrator sent a wave of fear and anxiety coursing through Blychert in the blink of an eye, gripping him with such palpable nausea that he was certain he would either vomit or black out completely. The darkened second floor balcony was beginning to spin, as Bly's heart raced and his mind numbed, focusing only on fire and pain. His fingers hurt suddenly, despite those scars healing ages ago, and he remembered the sheer might of the administrator's authority bearing down on him in what should have been his final living moments.

"Hey—?" Skaldan snatched Blychert's arm, pulling him steady so that he didn't fall over, "Easy now."

Suddenly, Bly felt a somewhat familiar sensation pass over him, like an almost lukewarm blanket passing over him. It went away almost as quickly as it had come, and as his mind reoriented itself, he looked down and realized that Skaldan was gripping his forearm tightly, and the blood vessels of the other boy's hand and fingers were pulsing violently.

"…Thanks." Bly gasped, keeping his voice low. He didn't realize how hard his heart must have been pumping until that moment, because he was very nearly out of breath, but thankfully he wasn't in here alone, "I'm alright."

"What was that?" Skaldan whispered, looking at him seriously.

Bly shook his head, as if to say "not right now" before gesturing down below for them to listen further.

"Let us keep this brief, I have work to attend to." Caelus said, "Marcella, where do we stand with the investigation?"

"We stand where we stand." Marcella replied nonchalantly, "Ley lines are your business, administrator, are they not? Surely you have more to say on that matter than I."

"I've lost two of my men in your business." Gurogan added, "My only concern is the dwarf. You promised me—"

"Yes, yes, the dwarf." Caelus interjected dismissively, "Perhaps if the both of you had not wasted so much time looking in the wrong places, we would still be on schedule. Marcella, I needn't remind you of what's at stake, for the both of us."

"Things tend to get done more efficiently when I'm allowed to kill whomever I please." Marcella said, a seemingly playful tone of voice, "I told you that rat in Lanelc's party knew where he was hiding, and yet you refused to let me cut her open. Now what? Cat's out of the bag, administrator. Ever since that little outburst in the dungeon last week, the hall's grip has tightened. They know a rift is coming. And if they don't, then they've certainly thrown in a guess or two. If you needed the dwarf so badly, you should have let me—"

"Enough." Gurogan interjected, and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor resounded out, "You want the support of my clan? Then I require the dwarf's head. That was our deal. Until then, I am done with this idle conversation. Seeing that you got what you wanted out of this, I will find the dwarf on my own. Do not summon me again, not if your desire is to keep your own heads."

The giant left in a hurry, and a deepening quiet filled the room for a long pause.

"How fair's your dear friend? Nárthimr?" Caelus broke the silence, changing the subject abruptly. Out of the corner of his eye, Bly noticed that Skaldan had tensed up now. He supposed that name must have meant something to him, not that it meant much to Bly in the moment.

The sister grunted amusedly, "You're not worried about that oaf? He's coming off the chain, and he's still assigned to delve on the Church's behalf. Your plans for him aren't working out, you know. That quest will put him on the seventh floor, whether you like it or not, that means more watchful eyes. If that weasel of an artificer truly is hiding out down there, don't you think we ought to collect him ourselves? It would be better to tie off our loose ends too. I can get rid of Gurogan. Tonight."

"Our concern is the rift." Caelus reiterated, "Whether Cynric kickstarted its sequencing or not, that is of no matter to us, only that it was started. It is Nárthimr that the gaze of the Divine shifts towards now. But his mind his weak, Sister, and his emotions must be carefully shepherded... from here to the end."

"The end is upon us." Marcella replied simply, "You'll have what you need from him within a few months. I guarantee it. Now, if that's all—"

"Marcella," Caelus interrupted, seemingly as the sister was getting ready to leave herself, "Leave the giant be. Focus on your task with Nárthimr. You have more than enough work that needs to be done before the advent, and we cannot afford another premature anomaly setting us back. My work is proceeding accordingly, but I need your fullest and undivided attention in this matter. I wouldn't want for my next report to His Grace to shed light on you... poorly."

"Hm." Marcella chuckled, "When this is all over, you grotesque freak, I'm going to find out all for myself just what the Divine made your insides look like. Until then... good night, administrator."

"Sister…"

Blychert felt Skaldan nudge his arm, indicating quietly that it was time for them to get the hell out of there.

More than a little shaken up, Blychert and Skaldan ran through the empty, evening streets of Frostwall side-by-side. It was only after a few blocks of wordless sprinting that Bly finally hollered for them to stop.

"What the hell was all that about?" Skaldan panted, pacing back and forth, "I mean—shit! I knew those administrators were weird looking, but that guy… and they mentioned working with Nárthimr? This is bad. This is really bad! The Guild, the Church, the Icestone giants… ugh!"

"They're messing around with the ley lines." Bly pondered aloud, "But… it doesn't seem like Caelus had much involvement over what happened last week. Still, it's like they don't mind that it's going on. They want a rift to happen? I don't get it. What does the Guild get out of something like that? And who's Nárthimr?"

"You're not the only one whose been wondering that." Skaldan shook his head. The other boy looked up and down the street for a moment, "I, uh… I need to gather my thoughts. But don't think I'm letting you off the hook! We need to talk. Not here, and not tonight. Somewhere safer. Maybe tomorrow?"

Blychert nodded slowly.

There was certainly more to Skaldan than met the eye. Their motives might be different, but between the two of them, they both seemed to have a vested interest in the same parties involved. For better or worse, Blychert was a little relieved to have had someone else experience that with him. He had a lot of questions for Skaldan, so it was good that they were on the same page about meeting up again.

"Alright, okay… you live close by?"

"Close enough. I'm staying at the Half Full Flagon." Blychert shrugged, "Not exactly private though. You?"

"Hmm…" Skaldan frowned, seeming to think to himself for a moment. He grinned slightly, and said, "I've got an idea. Meet me at the northwest corner of the dungeon plaza tomorrow. Midday."

And before Blychert could even respond, Skaldan was out of sight. He sighed, his breath still heavy with adrenaline and anxiousness, but content to be alone for a moment. Fear still cloaked him, not easing even a little bit. Administrator Caelus frightened him, more than anything. Bly was a lot stronger now, but that didn't do much to mitigate the memory of that day in Darskaart. And yet, he didn't seem to have any choice but to carry on. There was a lot more at stake here than just his own life, or so it appeared from the surface of whatever this was.

Slowly standing to his feet, Bly figured he'd might as well head home. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, if nothing else, and he hoped Skaldan would be able to fill in some of the gaps where he couldn't seem to figure out anything. Maybe Skaldan wouldn't know anything, but at least he appeared to have made a coconspirator, if nothing else.

Perhaps he couldn't ask for anything more than that.

At that moment, however, only one thing seemed for certain to him… the past was coming back to bite Blychert right in the ass, and there was no getting around it.