Stealthcaster Read online

  Retrieve 60 GlowerLilly

  Current Status: 60/60

  Rewards:

  2000 XP

  Class Specific Magic Item x 1 per party member

  Relationship with Gallowind Fae: Familiar

  Charisma: +1

  Solomon drew in a sharp breath and held it. The 2,000 XP was huge, and a giant step toward his next level, but he had almost forgotten about the class-specific magic item. Each one of them was going to receive a magic item designed purely for their class. His eyes widened and his mind raced with the thought of it, with the anticipation of what might be coming in just a few—

  “Well done, Solomon,” Gossamer said. “And as a special ‘thank you’ for your service, our best builders we begin crafting your class-specific items. Stay with us for the night. Sleep. Rest. In the morning, you will receive your items and be on your way.”

  His heart sank. In the morning? He’d have to wait all night to see what awesome class-specific item he might be getting? How would he even sleep?

  “Thank you, Gossamer,” Woody said bowing his head respectfully. “Your generosity is much appreciated. We shall stay the night, and venture back out again in the morning on our search for my brothers and sisters.”

  Gossamer buzzed her fluttering, translucent wings and swept over to where Woody stood.

  “That is your goal?” she asked. “To find your Harefolk?”

  Woody nodded.

  “Then it shall be done. Our scouts have seen them. North, along the Forked Tongue River. We can show you precisely where they are at morning light. We will help.”

  Woody smiled softly and nodded yet again.

  “Very kind of you.” He turned and gestured to Solomon and Lionel. “Come now, comrades. We should sleep. When the sun breaks through the clouds, we will set out to find my clan.”

  Solomon nodded, though part of him wondered if he would actually sleep tonight. Class-specific items could be game changers… and at this point in his progress, where his XP seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, he could use one of those.

  Chapter 22 - Magic Energies

  * * *

  Thorathon Village was quiet as night had settled in, most of the new recruits and the elder Amazons taking an opportunity for some well-deserved and much needed rest. Off to the western edge of the village, Locratia stood with some of the fresh-faced magic users, testing their spells, a blossom of swirling energy wrapping and twisting around the small, clutched group as they each went through their regular rituals of spell casting.

  Ella stood near the crackling fire in the center of the village, her eyes affixed on the meeting hall where she knew Megyn was resting. She had been healed quickly and easily by the Amazon, but had still elected to retire early, taking a bit of a mental break from the battle of earlier in the day. Ella could relate. It was a significant mindset shift moving from the real world to this strange virtual one, where the pain and sensations felt so real, yet in your heart, you knew they weren’t.

  To Megyn every single wound had felt like a real world injury, and the simple act of an Amazon healer laying her hands on her curing every one of her ailments somehow felt… wrong. It was something they’d all have to get used to. She couldn’t help but think of Solomon’s battle with G’Lorath, his subsequent death and respawn. What must that have felt like? If Megyn was having a hard time adjusting to some grievous injuries, the process of actual dying and coming back to life?

  She shuddered involuntarily, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Are you cold, young one?” a voice asked from the darkness behind her, and Ella turned to face the stranger.

  “Locratia,” she said with a curt nod. “You and the mages are always up the lasted, aren’t you?”

  “There is something about the night that calls to us, Ella, the magical energies seem thicker in the darkness. More accessible, somehow. Richer and more delicious.”

  Ella nodded in silence, turning away from the Amazon.

  “Something troubles you,” Locratia said, taking a step closer and placing a comforting hand on her student’s shoulder. “Speak, child.”

  Ella turned and looked at her.

  “I was foolish,” she replied quietly. “Earlier, you offered to teach me the ways of healing magic. Emphasized how important it was, especially for a Druid. I brushed you off.”

  Locratia smiled and shrugged her shoulders, the long, thick cloak draped over them shuffling with her movements.

  “Not unexpected,” she replied. “The younger magic users always gravitate to those flashy, powerful magics. Why learning to heal or restore when you can simply destroy everything in your path, right?”

  “It’s not that easy,” Ella replied. Locratia drew back in mock surprise.

  “You don’t say,” she replied, her mouth crooking into a soft smile.

  “You may laugh,” Ella replied, “but Megyn could have died today. She almost did. As it was, we had to hurry back here to get her healed and we had to abandon the quest.”

  “Indeed,” Locratia replied, nodding. “So what is to be done about that? Do you want me to teach you how to heal? Please know, that I am not a cleric. I’m not a full fledged healer, I only dabble in the restorative magics. To truly learn the healing skill tree, you’ll want to speak with Narween, our healer.”

  “Very well,” Ella replied. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps,” Locratia agreed. “But first and foremost, you must know what you want to be. You have attached yourself to the Druid class, which is a class that is intertwined with natural magics, including tapping into that unique energy that provides healing powers. However, you have already evolved to level 02 Acid Arrow, which doesn’t always fall within the Druid umbrella. Somewhere along the way you will need to commit to a cause and to a direction, or you risk being pulled in several at once, and being weak in all of them.”

  “I understand,” she replied.

  “I know you do. To that end, please allow me to show you what I know about healing. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and will hopefully point you on the path you desire.”

  Ella smiled widely. “I would like that.”

  A shrill shriek erupted from the edge of the village and the two of them spun toward it, Locratia taking a step in that direction. They could see the tightly grouped clutch of new recruits, arms waving, shadows illuminated by a brightening bloom of crimson light.

  “No!” Locratia shouted. “I thought I told you not the flame spells! Not yet!” She charged in their direction as spinning rockets of red light tumbled in the air, springing from extended fingers, splashing along the grass-covered ground. Flames ignited at the group’s feet with a soft woosh, raging up into a swift inferno, sending the magic users scrambling. Locratia picked up speed, charging toward the growing flames and Ella ran close behind her. As they crossed the sprawling grass leading to where the fire was now raging full bore, Ella pressed her palms together, conjuring Ice Dagger. She focused all of her energy on the spell building within her pressed hands, physically forcing her mana to drain completely, funneling every single ounce of MP she had into the brimming frost coating the edges and surface of her hands. Ahead of her, she could see Locratia doing the same thing, whipping once Ice Dagger after another, striking down the crackling whip of flames. Her MP totally empty, Ella pulled back then unleashed with both hands, spraying a massive, thick spear of ice toward the roaring fire. The blast struck the orange flames with a pop and sizzle, shooting smoke and steam up from the point of impact. Water exploded from the ice, spraying over a small section of flame, driving it down as Locratia did the same from her angle.

  “Students!” Locratia screamed. “Ice Daggers! Water Bombs! Attack the flames! Hold your ground!”

  Slowly the fire crawled up the wall of the meeting hall, licking and snapping at the wooden structure.

  “Focus on the wall!” Locratia screamed. “Don’t let the meeting hall go up in flames!” In a surprisingly coordinated effort, the new recr
uits converged on her, twisting toward the meeting hall, unleashing a volley of Ice Dagger and Water Bomb spells, a barrage of liquid, frozen and unfrozen, slapping the wooden sides of the hall. Amazons spilled from the building as well, charging in the direction of a well, furiously pumping out water into buckets, carrying it off, dashing to the build and throwing them all along the smooth surface of the building, dousing the flames.

  It took a few precious moments, a snatch of time that seemed precariously close to too long, but shortly, the flames were reduced to a dull smolder, gray smoke coughing up into the sky, boiling off of the burnt and scorched ground below.

  “Sorry, Locratia,” one of the recruits exclaimed, bowing low. “Our apologies. The flame spell, it—”

  Locratia held up a single hand, shaking her head.

  “I do not want excuses,” she replied coolly. “Spare us both the trouble. What we need are solutions.”

  Soracia swept from the shadows, her cloak snapping with the abrupt jerk of her strides.

  “Solutions?” one of the other new recruits asked, obviously confused.

  “Do you not see what you’ve done?” Locratia asked, gesturing to the area where the fire had been doused, the area there blackened and burnt, a dark husk wilted behind the meeting hall. “Those were the storage crates for our recurve bows and arrows. Our ranged weapons. Our primary advantage against the Sharak-Ku. Our only advantage against the Sharak-Ku. Your reckless spell casting destroyed half of our arsenal!”

  Soracia arrived at Locratia’s side, looking over the burnt and charred husk. She drew a sudden, sharp breath and lowered her eyes, as if looking upon the ruined weapons was painful to her. Ella turned to speak, seeing Megyn running up behind her, flanked by Aldena and Soracia’s queen’s guard Kydel.

  “What happened?” Megyn asked through sharp intakes of breath.

  “These foolish welps—” Locratia shouted, darting her hands at the young Amazons, but Soracia stepped forward, holding up a calming hand.

  “Our eager young students got a little over-excited and started a fire,” Soracia pointed out.

  “Thankfully you all put it out before too much damage was done,” Megyn said.

  “Damage was done,” Aldena interjected, walking over to the charred husks of the storage containers lined up side by side just behind the meeting hall. “Half of our bows and arrows - up in smoke! Our ranged attacks are a hallmark of Amazon wartime strategy. Without them, I’m not sure what we’ll do.”

  “So, can we make more?” Megyn asked, looking over at Aldena.

  Soracia replied. “There is a unique type of wood we use. A grove of ancient oak, southeast of Thorathon. One of the few sources of wood we’ve found with the correct balance of flexibility and strength.”

  “We don’t have the time to venture to the Ancient Oak Grove,” insisted Locratia. “We have already taken too long. If what Ella and Megyn says is true, the Sharak-Ku have already developed an attack strategy and are in motion! If they reach us before we’re prepared to reach them, all is lost!”

  “So let us do it,” Megyn said. Soracia and Locratia turned toward her. “Just three of us. Ella, me, and Kydel. That way the rest of you can stay and continue to train, and we’ll travel southeast and retrieve the wood. Bring it back, and perhaps by the time the bows are in construction again, Solomon will have returned with the Harefolk and we can prepare our final advance?”

  “A sense a great deal of worrisome confidence in that plan, my dear,” Soracia replied. “Are you certain you can do this? The last time you left on a quest, you very nearly did not return.”

  “I have spoken to Locratia,” Ella said quietly. “She has offered to teach me what she knows of healing magic.”

  “What she knows of healing magic?” Soracia asked, drawing back, as if surprised. “She knows little to nothing.” She glared at Locratia who shrugged.

  “Narween was occupied with the other one. I volunteered.”

  Soracia looked at Ella. “You will spend two hours with Narween in the morning, after you’ve gotten some rest. Then the three of you will dispatch southeast toward Ancient Oak Grove and recover some of the wood there.

  Preparations for War

  Part 05 - An Ancient Wood for an Ancient Weapon

  The Amazon stockpile of bows and arrows has been destroyed inadvertently by flame magic. The group must travel to the Ancient Oak Grove to retrieve more wood so that the bows and arrows can be rebuilt in preparation for the conflict with the Sharak-Ku.

  Quest Class: Rare

  Quest Difficulty: Difficult

  Success:

  Retrieve Six Trees from the Ancien Oak Grove

  Rewards:

  2500 XP

  Reputation with Soracia improved

  Reputation with the Amazons improved

  Penalty:

  Reputation with Soracia reduced

  Reputation with the Amazons reduced

  Accept: YES/NO

  Megyn and Ella exchanged a quick look, though they didn’t have to. It was clear what they were going to choose. Within seconds the quest was accepted, and the two friends prepared to bed down for the night to rest for the next day’s adventures.

  Chapter 23 - The Voyage North

  * * *

  Solomon surprised himself by actually sleeping, at least for the scant few hours before the sun rose. With each slice of light that carved through the trees, Solomon’s eyes pried further open, his sleep-soaked brain clearing as the reality of the brand new day settled upon him. As he stirred, he could see Woody in the near distance, crouching low, speaking with a gathering of the fae, small, brightly lit figures zipping back and forth around him as they spoke. Lionel was a short distance behind him, practicing parries and strikes with his long sword, lunging, swiveling, backstepping and blocking, moving with uncanny grace and power, even encased in his layered mail.

  “Good morning, friend Solomon,” Woody said, pushing himself to his feet. “It is a fine start to the day.”

  Solomon flattened his hand above his eyes, shielding himself from the brightening sun. As Woody approached, fluttering faeries swarmed around him, buzzing and shooting bright firework sparks in their wake.

  Gossamer reached him first zipping back and forth in front of his face, waving to him as she did.

  “We thought you’d never awaken!” she said, a smile actually creasing her normally stern face.

  Sol smiled, marvelling at the fact that he’d actually slept for a few solid hours considering his excitement over what would be coming this morning. His time in Shyft had been a roller coaster, but this was the first time he might have an opportunity to get an actual class-specific item, something uniquely made just for him, and the rapid thrum of his heart picked up its pace even further as other fae approached, mimicking Gossamer’s frenetic motions.

  “It has been done,” Gossamer said, smiling still. “We spent much of the night with our magics, but we have crafted three unique items for all of you. Items that should help you on your journey!”

  Lionel smiled broadly, coming up next to the fae, sliding his sword into its thick sheath at his hip. His shield remained pinned to his shoulders, pressing his purple cape to the back of his mail armor. Woody joined them, hanging back slightly as they all gathered around the increasing horde of proud fae. Three small, wooden boxes emerged, carried by the faeries and brought forward, placing the boxes in the palms of each of their intended recipients.

  Solomon felt gooseflesh racing along his arms, his eyes opening wide as he looked down at the relatively small box, resisting the urge to tear it open and dig right in to the contents within.

  “You first,” Solomon said, turning to Woody, who looked back at him, with surprise in his eyes. He shrugged lightly and cupped the box, carefully prying open the hinged lid. Solomon looked down inside as he withdrew a pair of shin high boots, gleaming with the metallic sheen of woven metal. The sun glistened from the material with a vast and bright twinkling, like a full field of stars be
ing held in the Harefolk’s hands.

  Boots of Mercury

  Lightweight, but tough armored boots of speed and skill

  AGI: +4

  DEX: +4

  Durability: 380/380

  Rarity: One of a Kind

  Quality: Pristine

  Woody bowed low to the fae, lowering his nose nearly to the grass.

  “I am in your debt, Gossamer,” he said quietly. “My thanks to you.”

  “You are welcome,” Gossamer replied. “Legend tells of the Mercury Armor, a set of high durability and light armor, perfect for a fighter of your talents. This suit of armor was never built with boots, but we constructed these to compliment the larger set. If you were to find the entire suit of Mercury Armor, your bonuses would only be further increased.”

  “And where would I find this armor?” Woody asked.

  Gossamer flew in a lazy loop, soaring up, then whipping down and around into a vertical flutter.

  “Lost to the sands of time, I am afraid,” Gossamer replied. “Legends persist of a dark wizard who had been able to collect this armor and had used it to launch on offensive in the Western Wilds. He came dangerously close, but was ultimately defeated, the pieces of armor scattered throughout the world to prevent it from falling together into evil hands.”

  Solomon thought he saw a glimmer in Woody’s eye at mention of these legends, but quickly pushed that thought aside as he turned to Lionel.

  “Lionel,” he said quietly, nodding toward him. “Open yours.”

  The paladin smiled and eased open the hinged lid, looking inside. Reaching his large, thickly armored fingers into the box, he pried out a small object, a glimmering purple pin in the shape of an ornate golden cross.

  Clasp of Redemption

  A magical device of purity and resurrection

  STA: +4

  +50% chance to Resurrection upon death

  (Restores 10 HP, can only be used once within 24 game hours)

  Durability: 600/600