Stealthcaster Read online

  “The flag,” he whispered, pointing a finger north. “It’s just that way.”

  Megyn and Ella glanced at each other curiously, then back at him.

  “You know that stupid book I’ve been staying up too late reading?” Solomon asked, standing. “Turns out, it’s pretty useful after all.” He walked through the trees, Ella and Megyn following close behind for a few moments until they came to yet another small clearing, this one with the gleaming metal spear in the center, just as his mind’s eye had seen. Red cloth dangled from the blunt end of it, a swift breeze blowing it back and forth.

  “By all means, do the honors,” Megyn said, gesturing toward it.

  Solomon nodded and walked forward, crossing the grass and coming up to the spear, reaching to pluck it from the ground.

  The grass underneath him shifted suddenly, flattening and twisting, a loud ‘sproing’ echoing in the quiet air. Thick, bound cable snapped shut, curling tightly around his legs, dragged him to the ground, then swept him past the flag and up into the air, legs first until he was dangling by a thick tree branch, the trap sprung and Solomon helpless, twelve feet above the ground. Down below, he was pretty sure he saw Megyn and Ella laughing.

  Chapter 06 - Hidden Talents

  * * *

  A soft, steady clapping sounded from the trees and Solomon looked that way, seeing Esmelda and Aldena exiting the forest, both applauding in mock appreciation of his efforts.

  “Well done, my boy, well done,” Esmelda said sarcastically. “I thought rogues are supposed to be good at detecting traps?”

  “I’m not a rogue!” Solomon shouted back.

  “Apparently not,” Aldena replied.

  Solomon sighed, looking down at the grass as he swung slowly back and forth, hanging high in the air. His axe was resting down below him, evidently springing from his grasp as the rope trap drew him up into the trees.

  “I thought that new skill seemed pretty impressive!” Megyn called up, cupping her hands around her mouth. “But let me guess, you’re still a level one?”

  “You just wait,” Solomon replied, digging in his belt. Surprising himself, he found the small, iron dagger there, a weapon he hadn’t carried with him in a long time, but he guessed since using it to carve the wood of the cottage last night, he must have stashed it back in his belt afterward. Bending upright, he grabbed the rope and swiped at it with the small, weak knife, and after a few slices, the cable snapped and he dropped, artfully landing in a low crouch down in the grass and dirt, right next to his axe. He stood, axe in hand, trying to maintain some level of confidence and assuredness, but the truth was, he was feeling pretty embarrassed about stumbling recklessly into such an obvious trap. Would the Amazons have really left their flag totally unguarded? Had he relied so heavily on his flashy new echolocation skill just as a way to impress his friends?

  He shook his head and turned away from the Amazons, then hesitated for a moment.

  None of them had touched him. In this particular challenge, the three players had to capture the flag and return it to their homebase without being tagged. He’d been caught in a trap and lifted high in the air, but had never once been tagged. Standing next to the spear in the ground, he hesitated for a moment, silently triggering Scamper and Long Jump. Esmelda and Aldena took a step closer, and he went into action.

  His arm lashed out, fingers clamping around the spear, and he ripped it from the ground, spinning it around and whacking Aldena in the head with the blunt end of the flag. Esmelda smiled wickedly and charged toward him, arms outstretched. Coiling his legs he thrust up and back, leaping high into the air and curling into a graceful backflip, tucking the flag close, holding it as a gymnast might hold the parallel bars when flipping over them. His feet slammed grass a good eight feet away from the charging Amazon, and he turned and ran, his legs moving at the peak of Scamper’s ability.

  Congratulations you have reached Level 02 of the Scamper Skill!

  (Part of the Hare FolkLore Skill Tree)

  (Swift of foot and agile - run fast and even climb walls!)

  (+6 to AGI)

  (+6 to DEX)

  (Duration: 12 minutes)

  Solomon started to smile, feeling even a little more confident as he charged along, when another prompt flashed in front of his face.

  Congratulations you have reached Level 02 of the Hare FolkLore Skill Tree!

  All Skill Tree sub-skills have been upgraded to Level 02

  Level 03 of all Associated Skills have been unlocked

  XP: 1000

  “Clever boy!” Esmelda shouted, then gave chase.

  Solomon’s swift pace took him around a thick tree and between two narrow ones, tucking the flag in tight as he leaped between ‘v’ shaped trunks. He could hear Esmelda crashing through the brush behind him, swinging her massive axe like a scythe, clearing out any vegetation that stood in her way. Hitting the ground, he shifted one way, then broke the other running, eying a tree just ahead, a large, thick oak, that he knew once he curled around, he’d be home free, it was the big tree just on the south side of the forest, the last big barrier between him and open ground. He was almost there—

  The big, white blur loped from behind the tree with a muffled growl, a sudden blurring smash of movement and before Solomon could react he saw the beast, the huge, silver/white wolf bearing down on him. Tyson struck him like a battering ram, leading with his front paws, driving him back, his feet sweeping up, the flag spinning from his fingers. He hit the ground with a jarring slam, Tyson coming down on top of him, eyes narrow and teeth bared, a low growl escaping his black lips.

  He sat like that for a few moments, green eyes burning into Solomon, digging twin pinpricks of animal anger. Then, suddenly, his mouth slackened into a goofy grin, and his tongue slipped out, running all the way up Solomon’s right cheek.

  “Agh!” Solomon screamed. “Dog slobber!”

  Tyson woofed, and cocked his head sideways as if to say ‘do I look like a dog to you?’

  “I thought you were on our side?” Solomon asked as Esmelda caught up to them, chuckling as she did.

  “Good boy,” she smiled and reached into her belt, pulling out a small slab of salted pork. Tyson jumped off of Solomon and panted wildly, opening his mouth and chuffing.

  “That is so cheating,” Solomon said, shaking his head. “Bribed by glorified spam. You should be ashamed of yourself, howler.”

  Tyson didn’t even look at him, he merely accepted the salt pork and chomped it down in a matter of seconds.

  “Better luck next time, kids,” Esmelda said, reaching over and scooping the flag up off the ground. Megyn, Ella, and Aldena emerged through the trees. Megyn looked at Solomon and shook her head.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “Tell it to your freaking dog,” Solomon complained. “It’s his fault!”

  Megyn dropped to a crouch and Tyson trotted over happily, tongue wagging.

  “Aww, it’s not your fault, is it widdle Ty Ty?” Megyn asked giving the huge creature a tight hug around his neck, which was thicker around than her waist.

  “Oh no, not at all,” Solomon said.

  “Children,” Esmelda interrupted. “I know we are all trying to keep the situation light, and I can appreciate the need for humor in the face of suck dark times.”

  This got everyone’s attention, and they all stood and faced the senior Amazonian warrior.

  “But please do not forget what we are preparing for here. What lies at the end of these exercises. It is full blown warfare, do not misunderstand. Life and death. Blood for blood. It must be taken seriously.”

  “Understood,” Megyn replied earnestly, bowing her head with respect. She patted Tyson on the back of the head and gestured back toward town. “We will go engage in further training. Aldena, are you preparing the archers?”

  “I am,” Aldena replied. Let us go train.”

  “Me as well,” Ella replied. “Locratia has been running the magic users through their paces. It’s only
right that I join them.” Ella turned and followed Megyn’s path, disappearing from view.

  “And you, young Solomon?” Esmelda asked, opening her arms. “Are you ready yet to train with my warrior cadre?”

  Solomon hesitated for a moment, considering this offer. He was still struggling with his new class, with what he wanted to be and at the end of the day, he wasn’t sure training with the Amazon fighters would serve him well. He didn’t have the strength or constitution to be an all out brawler, and that had never been a goal of his, anyway.

  Still… he certainly wasn’t an archer. And he wasn’t a magic user. Where else did that leave him?

  Solomon reluctantly nodded.

  “I’ll be there shortly,” he finally said. “For real this time.”

  Esmelda smiled and nodded, but had a doubtful gleam in her eye.

  “We shall see.”

  She stepped away and exited the trees, walking back toward the village.

  Chapter 07 - Audience with the Queen

  * * *

  Solomon had remained in the forest for a bit longer than he intended, but as he’d promised Esmelda he strode from the trees, out onto the grass, looking around the village to see if he could locate the Amazon, she was pretty tough to miss.

  Instead it was Queen Soracia who he found first, or, more appropriately, who found him.

  “Solomon,” she said in her always kind, yet firm voice.

  “My queen,” Solomon replied, bowing low. He glanced up from his position and looked around. “Has Wiscilla left the village?”

  “For the moment,” Soracia replied. “Walk with me for a time?”

  Solomon nodded, knowing that if Esmelda saw him with the queen, she would forgive a few more minutes of lateness.

  “I see that once again you and your friends failed to capture the trophy.”

  “That is true,” he replied quietly, suddenly feeling a tight nugget of shame build in his gut.

  “I fear you are not taking these exercises seriously enough. This training is about your survival, not just your form.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not sure you do,” Soracia continued as they strode by a small group of sword wielders who Esmelda was putting through paces. “Even your two friends have been spending hours with group leaders, refining their skills.” They stopped walking and the two of them looked out across the village, and from where they stood, he could see both Ella and Megyn’s groups. The far group, the archers, all lined up in a straight row, aiming their weapons at a row of targets several hundred meters away. Aldena lifted an arm and counted down, then chopped, releasing everyone to fire. Arrows whistled through the air in unison, arcing gently before thwacking the targets at almost the exact same time.

  Meanwhile, Locratia was levitating in mid air in front of a group of students, her arms extended, strange purple mist curling between her feet and the ground beneath her. The purple mist rose up and twisted around her limbs, creating a fog-like cradle of sorts, holding her aloft as she spoke with her disciples. Solomon couldn’t help but shake his head watching the spectacle.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he finally replied, looking at Soracia again. “I’ve been training, I promise. Body and mind. Both are equally important.”

  “You say that, and I agree, yet I see no evidence of your improvement.”

  Solomon tried not to wince. Soracia was generally a kind, if direct leader, and this particular comment cut him to the quick. But how could he blame her? He’d spent a long time with the Journal of Kremjak, putting all of his focus on that book, yet not really reading it. And now that he’d finally started to really understand what it meant and what it was saying, he’d wasted all of that time, and they were getting dreadfully close to war.

  “I agree,” he said. “And I’m sorry. But, please trust me when I say that I strongly believe I’m putting the right focus in the right places. I’m not a fighter, I never have been. I know my way around an axe, mostly thanks to Esmelda, and I need to know, but in truth, my focus is elsewhere.”

  Soracia didn’t reply directly, instead still looking away, toward Locratia. The two of them stood in silence for a time, but she finally turned to him.

  “What class will you choose?” she asked. “You say you’re not a rogue. You say you’re not a fighter. I see no evidence of you being a mage or a ranger. You must understand by now that specialization is important. You can’t just be one of everything, that doesn’t work here. You won’t live long that way.”

  Solomon nodded. “I understand. It just so happens I chose my class last night.” He strategically avoided the fact that the game had actually chosen his class for him.

  This seemed to capture Soracia’s interest. "What track is that? Something that compliments our growing army well, I hope?” she gestured toward the Harefolk who were in an assembly line formation, putting together Ankheg armor, shaping weapons, preparing the arrows.

  Solomon drew in a breath, finally working up some courage. “Soracia, have you ever heard of… a StealthCaster?”

  She looked at him oddly, as if not understanding the word.

  “A… StealthCaster?”

  “Yes.”

  The Amazon Queen shook her head. “No, I haven’t. That is a term unfamiliar to me.”

  “It is a hidden class.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Soracia replied, suddenly sounding almost flippant. “You cannot just make up these classes, Solomon, we have established them for a reason. A reason that goes beyond some old, dusty book you found in a crypt.”

  Solomon smiled softly. He should have known she’d make that connection. Soracia was no dummy.

  “I’ve begun translating it,” he replied. “It was, at least partially, in some sort of strange language. But I’ve been able to make sense of it. Part of it, anyway. I unlocked the StealthCaster class and the Skill Tree last night and actually used one of the skills this morning.”

  “During the test?” she asked.

  Solomon nodded.

  She chuckled. “Well, it certainly didn’t seem to fare very well.” She shook her head and turned away, a gesture that made Solomon unusually angry.

  “Please don’t dismiss it,” he said firmly. So firmly that Soracia stopped walking and stood there for a few seconds, back to him. Slowly, purposefully, she turned back around.

  “You’re serious about this?”

  “I am.”

  “But you barely know what this book does. What any of it means.”

  “I know enough.”

  Soracia nodded, all of the fight going out of her.

  “Do what you will, child, if you think it best. Just know that while you lock yourself in your cottage reading your books, hundreds of women and men will be out here training to fight and preparing to die. Putting their lives on the line to protect this village and protect this forest, while you’re in your bed looking at letters and studying a dead language.”

  Solomon almost couldn’t believe the tone of her voice. He’d never heard her quite so angry before. Soracia was a hard leader with high expectations, but she was generally fair and listened to all sides. But he thought for a moment about what situation she was in. Coordinating a massive attack front against superior forces with groups of soldiers she was certain were going to die under her watch. Dozens of support soldiers from other towns and villages, willing to give their lives to protect her little corner of the world.

  And here was Solomon, turning down training opportunities so he could read his book. He felt his cheeks flush and lowered his head in shame. All of this made perfect sense to him, but it was only too easy to see how perplexing it must be for the queen. She’d seen what he could do, she’d heard first hand about him helping take down stone golems, Rulaaz, and G’Lorath himself, and the frustration she must be feeling that someone who had done that was turning down the opportunity to get even better at combat?

  Her disappointment was understandable.

  “I apologize, my qu
een,” Solomon said, bowing respectfully. “I do know how important this is. I will join Esmelda’s group, learn the ways of combat, and if I have the opportunity to learn from my book, I will. It was never my wish to put the village at risk or to appear as if I’m not taking the Sharak-Ku threat seriously.”

  Soracia’s face softened visibly as she nodded. “I understand, my boy. Truly, I do. Everyone deserves a chance to be what they want to be. And I want that for you. But for now, I must ask that we put the needs of the village first.”

  “As you wish.”

  They stood for another few moments, watching soldiers operating, and he couldn’t help but notice her gaze was fixed on Megyn. She had put down her bow and arrow and was now using a sword, spinning gracefully, stabbing, slashing, blocking and parrying, it looked like a violent dance, but a dance she was well practiced in.

  “She is impressive,” Soracia said. “She’s already picked up so much of our Amazonian skills. Weak Point… Archery. Trick Shot. She’s a natural.”

  “Indeed,” Solomon replied. He almost mentioned how much of an athlete she was IRL, but decided that Soracia might not quite know what he meant. Or he might throw an error in the code, which could be even worse. But he could think about it himself, and he remembered clearly how much of a jock she’d been in high school and how she’d been able to pick up almost every sport barely even trying. Some kind of natural innate physical ability. By all appearances that innate ability translated pretty seamlessly to combat.