- Location
- England
Chapter 10
The temple next to the Bonepit was fairly easy to find fortunately. It was a small thing to be sure, especially compared to the Temple of Fire across the street, but it held a certain gravitas that let it compare. Something about the way it sat there solid and unyielding in contrast made it feel larger. Or perhaps the better word would be more potent.
Samael was probably biased, he had to admit. The Angelic Faith of the Heavenly Churches was declining in popularity. It had a small church because it didn't have many members. The Demon's Faith of the Fire Temples was in ascendance. He wouldn't admit that anytime soon though. It wasn't like the Heavenly Churches were in danger of dying out. They'd come back in time.
The teen entered his church was a nostalgic smile. The pews might have been solid and well made. The roof might not have been leaking. The stained glass actually depicted an angel instead of vague colors. It was still almost like being home again. His heart ached a bit.
He placed several silvers in the donation box. Probably half what he had saved. Enough to feed him for for awhile even at the price gouged prices around here. It was good money spent.
The other partitioners ignored him. The priest wasn't here at the moment either. Serious sermons were at dawn or dusk. The church was open to everyone at all times otherwise. Samael knew from experience that vandalism was punished, even if no one had seen what you had done. He had gotten blackened hands for a week just from a simple doodle. That had been a fun conversation to have with his old guardian.
And now Samael's heart ached in truth. He settled in a pew up front and placed his hands in front of himself in prayer.
"Watch over me in heaven my beloved family. Thank you for your grace and blessings, and may my utterances reach your ears." He began under his breath. "I pray and hope. I gift my words to the blessed gates and ask nothing in return. My breath will rise up, and my soul will follow when my time comes. Until then I will strive. Until then I will fight. Until then I will be humble. Until then, I will bring light. I will give freely when I can, and hold tight when I cannot. I thank you for the grace and guidance. I thank you for life. I thank you for peace and joy. For all that I thank you, I promise. You have my breath, my life, and my soul."
That was the first part of the prayer, the rote . You could technically end there. The second part was more personal though and typically added when one did this.
"I worry." Samael took a long time to continue. "I am a brawler. Once I thought it was a source of shame. That fighting with your fists was crude." Another long pause. "Some part of me still thinks that." Samael inhaled sharply and found his breath shudder. "I can't. I won't give it up now."
It was like a flame was burning in his chest, and Samael felt a few tears gather. "I dreamed that the old man gifted me a vision. I believe it's from Heaven. I felt it in my bones." He breathed as if it was the only thing in his life. "It's not enough. I will smash my fists to the bone if I need to. I have walked across fields of shattered bones and bled on it. But without more guidance, I will be nothing more than a brawler stuck like so many others have been."
Samael inhaled and exhaled, and focused on that flame inside himself. "Forgive me, but I need more. I cannot stop at being just a brawler stuck on the first floor. I should be humble. My ambition prevents that."
There was no answer to his prayer. Samael stayed there in the church for a long time simply focusing on his breathing and praying. The sun went down, and the last of the people left. He didn't fall asleep, but he did dream.
The golden man was in front of him again. They were on a field. Samael still sat in the pew, but he was also watching this field. He could feel the man standing and breathing as he had learned how to do. His magic was circulating like Samael had seen before, but this time he understood more.
You had to have it flow with your body. The golden man moved into a step, and Samael could see how it moved. It was similiar to what he did, just done better. More understanding.
A punch, a kick, a smooth dodge. More information and understanding.
Brawlers could be more. They learned to fight in crowds, but they didn't focus on their bodies. They grew wild and untamed, and then calcified into fighting everything. Including themselves.
It was good information, but it wasn't enough.
"Watch." A single word, and Samael's attention snapped back.
A blue man had joined the field. An Archmage, Samael could tell instantly, though he had no features. The golden man was many paces away from him, and the would fight.
A brawler would die without getting more than a pace.
The blue man made a gesture. A sweep of magic flowed from him in a shockwave. Transformation magic, Samael understood from a whisper that wasn't audible. It would change everything in it's reach. Magic was normally invisible. Seeing a spell actually made was incredible. Also just a bit terrifying. This was no low class spell. It was something that would disable nearly everyone in a single spell.
The golden man clapped his hands together and exhaled sharply in a single motion. In that exhale he spoke a single word and pushed his magic into his exhaling breath. "Grace."
The magic backlashed. There was no other way to describe it. A circle around the golden man was flattened and the magic bled into the visual spectrum a moment as the magic of the spell rebounded in on itself and was disrupted into something harmless. Colors flared through the air, and the gold man shifted into Stand Beneath the Heavens.
There was still a lot of space left though. Even as the golden man moved forward, the archmage invoked his next spell.
Magic Missile was a simple spell. A beginner could learn it after a bit of training. It wasn't normally impressive. A single bolt typically. An archmage casting it though?
Twelve missiles started from the Archmage's hand and arched through the air towards the golden man. Each one came from different directions, and would hit at slightly different timings. Undodgeable normally, this was even more of a killing move designed to bypass any defense by simple sheer weight.
For a moment Samael thought Grace was going to be used again. It would stop the advance though, and give the Archmage time.
"Purity." Another word, breathed on the exhale as a holy word. The golden man slammed his palm forward with it this time.
The hand was too far to hit the archmage, but it did cause the magic to ripple. The bolts went out of control and went into wild and different directions. More importantly perhaps, the ripple hit the archmage and disrupted his next spell.
That cleared the golden man to get close. Mid punch, the Archmage's countermeasure activated. The man was encased in an ice block. Solid and unmistakable.
"Final Prayer." Someone whispered.
A prayer written onto the skin of the man's chest flared in golden light and burned itself off. The ice around the man melted as it dissolved itself, and not even a second more he was free.
His fist impacted into the Archmage. Then another one, and another one. The Archmage fell as his mage armor failed.
"Remember." The whisper said.
Samael couldn't call it learning. He did get the knowledge though. How to mix the ink. What types of ink he could use. What to write. Where to write it.
Samael came out of his trance before dawn. Just as the light started to come in. For a moment he couldn't decide if he wanted to go to the clear.
Then he stretched off the bench and winced. Sitting hunched over like that was a bit painful.
"Do you require assistance?" The priest asked as he came into the church. "Our sermons are starting soon if you're interested."
Samael smiled briefly and shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm good." He'd already gotten what amounted to that.
First, get some sleep. Then find a place to practice. Isolated at that. He didn't want to explain exactly what he was doing, since it was going to look really silly.
Samael was probably biased, he had to admit. The Angelic Faith of the Heavenly Churches was declining in popularity. It had a small church because it didn't have many members. The Demon's Faith of the Fire Temples was in ascendance. He wouldn't admit that anytime soon though. It wasn't like the Heavenly Churches were in danger of dying out. They'd come back in time.
The teen entered his church was a nostalgic smile. The pews might have been solid and well made. The roof might not have been leaking. The stained glass actually depicted an angel instead of vague colors. It was still almost like being home again. His heart ached a bit.
He placed several silvers in the donation box. Probably half what he had saved. Enough to feed him for for awhile even at the price gouged prices around here. It was good money spent.
The other partitioners ignored him. The priest wasn't here at the moment either. Serious sermons were at dawn or dusk. The church was open to everyone at all times otherwise. Samael knew from experience that vandalism was punished, even if no one had seen what you had done. He had gotten blackened hands for a week just from a simple doodle. That had been a fun conversation to have with his old guardian.
And now Samael's heart ached in truth. He settled in a pew up front and placed his hands in front of himself in prayer.
"Watch over me in heaven my beloved family. Thank you for your grace and blessings, and may my utterances reach your ears." He began under his breath. "I pray and hope. I gift my words to the blessed gates and ask nothing in return. My breath will rise up, and my soul will follow when my time comes. Until then I will strive. Until then I will fight. Until then I will be humble. Until then, I will bring light. I will give freely when I can, and hold tight when I cannot. I thank you for the grace and guidance. I thank you for life. I thank you for peace and joy. For all that I thank you, I promise. You have my breath, my life, and my soul."
That was the first part of the prayer, the rote . You could technically end there. The second part was more personal though and typically added when one did this.
"I worry." Samael took a long time to continue. "I am a brawler. Once I thought it was a source of shame. That fighting with your fists was crude." Another long pause. "Some part of me still thinks that." Samael inhaled sharply and found his breath shudder. "I can't. I won't give it up now."
It was like a flame was burning in his chest, and Samael felt a few tears gather. "I dreamed that the old man gifted me a vision. I believe it's from Heaven. I felt it in my bones." He breathed as if it was the only thing in his life. "It's not enough. I will smash my fists to the bone if I need to. I have walked across fields of shattered bones and bled on it. But without more guidance, I will be nothing more than a brawler stuck like so many others have been."
Samael inhaled and exhaled, and focused on that flame inside himself. "Forgive me, but I need more. I cannot stop at being just a brawler stuck on the first floor. I should be humble. My ambition prevents that."
There was no answer to his prayer. Samael stayed there in the church for a long time simply focusing on his breathing and praying. The sun went down, and the last of the people left. He didn't fall asleep, but he did dream.
The golden man was in front of him again. They were on a field. Samael still sat in the pew, but he was also watching this field. He could feel the man standing and breathing as he had learned how to do. His magic was circulating like Samael had seen before, but this time he understood more.
You had to have it flow with your body. The golden man moved into a step, and Samael could see how it moved. It was similiar to what he did, just done better. More understanding.
A punch, a kick, a smooth dodge. More information and understanding.
Brawlers could be more. They learned to fight in crowds, but they didn't focus on their bodies. They grew wild and untamed, and then calcified into fighting everything. Including themselves.
It was good information, but it wasn't enough.
"Watch." A single word, and Samael's attention snapped back.
A blue man had joined the field. An Archmage, Samael could tell instantly, though he had no features. The golden man was many paces away from him, and the would fight.
A brawler would die without getting more than a pace.
The blue man made a gesture. A sweep of magic flowed from him in a shockwave. Transformation magic, Samael understood from a whisper that wasn't audible. It would change everything in it's reach. Magic was normally invisible. Seeing a spell actually made was incredible. Also just a bit terrifying. This was no low class spell. It was something that would disable nearly everyone in a single spell.
The golden man clapped his hands together and exhaled sharply in a single motion. In that exhale he spoke a single word and pushed his magic into his exhaling breath. "Grace."
The magic backlashed. There was no other way to describe it. A circle around the golden man was flattened and the magic bled into the visual spectrum a moment as the magic of the spell rebounded in on itself and was disrupted into something harmless. Colors flared through the air, and the gold man shifted into Stand Beneath the Heavens.
There was still a lot of space left though. Even as the golden man moved forward, the archmage invoked his next spell.
Magic Missile was a simple spell. A beginner could learn it after a bit of training. It wasn't normally impressive. A single bolt typically. An archmage casting it though?
Twelve missiles started from the Archmage's hand and arched through the air towards the golden man. Each one came from different directions, and would hit at slightly different timings. Undodgeable normally, this was even more of a killing move designed to bypass any defense by simple sheer weight.
For a moment Samael thought Grace was going to be used again. It would stop the advance though, and give the Archmage time.
"Purity." Another word, breathed on the exhale as a holy word. The golden man slammed his palm forward with it this time.
The hand was too far to hit the archmage, but it did cause the magic to ripple. The bolts went out of control and went into wild and different directions. More importantly perhaps, the ripple hit the archmage and disrupted his next spell.
That cleared the golden man to get close. Mid punch, the Archmage's countermeasure activated. The man was encased in an ice block. Solid and unmistakable.
"Final Prayer." Someone whispered.
A prayer written onto the skin of the man's chest flared in golden light and burned itself off. The ice around the man melted as it dissolved itself, and not even a second more he was free.
His fist impacted into the Archmage. Then another one, and another one. The Archmage fell as his mage armor failed.
"Remember." The whisper said.
Samael couldn't call it learning. He did get the knowledge though. How to mix the ink. What types of ink he could use. What to write. Where to write it.
Samael came out of his trance before dawn. Just as the light started to come in. For a moment he couldn't decide if he wanted to go to the clear.
Then he stretched off the bench and winced. Sitting hunched over like that was a bit painful.
"Do you require assistance?" The priest asked as he came into the church. "Our sermons are starting soon if you're interested."
Samael smiled briefly and shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm good." He'd already gotten what amounted to that.
First, get some sleep. Then find a place to practice. Isolated at that. He didn't want to explain exactly what he was doing, since it was going to look really silly.
Dragonskyt
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
- Location
- Kiln of the First Flame
This is what a proper Faith build looked like before it got nerfed.
Magic tattoos basically. Well, more like prayers written on the skin with ink that stains for awhile. Tattoos wouldn't quite work as you'll see in the next chapter when he practices them.
Scholar of Time
Master of Lurking
- Location
- Born of Sands, Raised in Shadow
Thou shalt not nerf, sayeth the gamers.
Let all be nerfed under heaven, sayeth the coastal archmages.
Chapter 11
Samael had a problem. And for once, it wasn't a serious problem that made him want to rage. No, his problem was that practicing his next trick looked ridiculous. Also he was having trouble feeling it work, but that would hopefully come with time.
Fortunately his problem was mitigated by heading out of town. Since the town was fairly small this was easy There was the building the brawlers were housed in, another building where armsmen housed themselves, a third building for magic users, and then around four streets full of shops.
There was obviously a reason for the size, but he didn't quite know why. The reasoning had never been explained and he had other priorities at the moment. Like shouting into the air in a field away from the town and off the main road.
"Grace!" He exhaled sharply with the shout and clapped his hands together, to no effect.
Ug. He didn't expect it to be easy, but he had expected to see progress. Part of it was because he couldn't see the magic as it had been shown in the dream he believed, but that was something he would have to overcome on his own. Seeing magic was a mage thing, and not a simple one.
Inhaling, Samael tried again. Then a few more times. Again to no effect.
Grumbling the teen moved onto the next step. He got into his stance and thrust his palm forward.
"Purity!" Palm forward, shift the magic like so, exhale on shout.
Nothing.
Samael grit his teeth and continued anyway. No one had ever said his path was easy. Even being shown it in detail by divine guidance only meant he had a path forward.
The sun set on his practice. Again and again. Switching back and forth between Grace and Purity. Samael ate when he needed to, drank his water frequently, and continued to try again and again.
He refused to be stopped by something as simple as doing it wrong. He knew he was. The vision he had was not something he would doubt. It wasn't something he would allow himself to doubt.
The first inkling of the path forward came when it was pitch black. It wasn't like Samael needed to see much honestly. The starlight was enough. The lack of the moon was no hindrance. He could get a rune light if he wanted too, but that would draw a bit of attention. He looked insane, and he knew it. Better to not invite the trouble.
"Grace!" Sharp exhale. Push magic into breath. Hand clap.
There was a glimmer of sense there. How his breath flowed out and expanded with the clap. How the magic flowed around.
Encouraged, Samael paused for a long moment. The night was silent. The light was out. Only the stars above and his breathing.
The teen inhaled and exhaled. Feeling the mana in his body. Remembering that book he'd read long ago on magic. Magical spells were achieved by a set of steps that anyone who studied learned quickly.
First, you learned to feel your mana. You needed to have used a spark first. It was another sense that was gifted with the spark. It was the power that made able to become something beyond mortal.
Second, you needed to focus your magic into either an object or a limb. Objects were easier because they could hold more, and messing up would typically just cause damage to the object instead of the body. There were a lot more rules than that, but that was the standard part.
Once you had the focus, you then needed to visualize what you wanted. Magic Missile was the quintessential example. You focused on the thought 'I want an arrow to hit that.' Process and target. The Magic Missile was the easiest because everyone could imagine that.
Then came the hardest part. Which sounded really silly to someone who didn't realize what you were doing. You had to evoke the 'title' of the spell. You had to be sure of the spell. You had to know, with faith and certainty that it would work. There were legends of Archmages being tricked and not being able to cast spells based on that doubt.
There were tricks and such to make the last part easier. One of the easiest was demonstrating it to someone else. If you see it with your own eyes, then you can do it too basically. You could also convince yourself through practice and working out how the magic worked. But in the end if you doubted you couldn't really cast the spell. At best you'd get something wild and uncontrolled.
Samael's problem wasn't his faith. It wasn't his focus. It was how he was shifting his mana. Everyone could sense their own mana. Mana outside the body didn't count.
For a brief moment though he had sensed his breath outside his body. Samael closed his eyes and breathed. Just breathed. Nothing else.
In and out. He set himself in his stance again. Stand Under Heaven. His mana moved as he had practiced and he stopped thinking. Just moved and breathed.
He focused on his breath as it left his body. Felt the mana for that brief instant. There was the trick. He was focusing the mana wrong. He inhaled deeply, and pushed the mana into his lungs.
The sensation made him shudder for a moment, but he held on for a second. This felt right.
"Grace." He stated in a sharp exhale. His hands clapped in that instant the air had the power.
The surge of power around him was subtle, but the feeling was unmistakable. For an instant the circle of air around him was his. He could stop everything he wanted. It lasted less than a second, and he could tell his version was imperfect. It was enough.
He did it a few more times to be sure. Now that he had the trick of it down he just needed the rhythm and timing.
After a few tries he noticed that the air around him had started to glimmer after each successful cast. He recalled the vision. This was the magic lingering in the air wasn't it? Grace disrupted it and forced it away from him.
Which made why he couldn't get Purity to work easy to notice in retrospect. There had to be more than background magic around. Like a few spells cast.
The teen shifted his stance and exhaled sharply. "Purity." His palm thrust out at the same time, grabbing the power in his breath and pushing.
There was a faint ripple in the air, and Samael grinned. One last technique to do. Hopefully the easiest. He had enough ink, and just needed some light.
That was easily gotten. He moved back to his room in the town. There were other adventurers moving around and the tavern was still quite open, so no one really cared if he was walking around.
His room had a mat in the corner and was more like a closet than anything else, but it was enough for what he needed. Samael lit up the light rune in the side of the wall and pulled out the ink and brush from his box of holding.
Settling himself down, Samael pulled out a mirror and slowly began to write the prayer on his skin. Letter after letter. It went down his left side and over his heart. Down to his stomach. A prayer for protection.
He messed up horribly, and Samael winced as he realized how bad his brush work was.
This, this was probably going to take the longest amount of time. The teen sighed and put away the ink and got up. He needed to practice with something cheaper first.
Fortunately his problem was mitigated by heading out of town. Since the town was fairly small this was easy There was the building the brawlers were housed in, another building where armsmen housed themselves, a third building for magic users, and then around four streets full of shops.
There was obviously a reason for the size, but he didn't quite know why. The reasoning had never been explained and he had other priorities at the moment. Like shouting into the air in a field away from the town and off the main road.
"Grace!" He exhaled sharply with the shout and clapped his hands together, to no effect.
Ug. He didn't expect it to be easy, but he had expected to see progress. Part of it was because he couldn't see the magic as it had been shown in the dream he believed, but that was something he would have to overcome on his own. Seeing magic was a mage thing, and not a simple one.
Inhaling, Samael tried again. Then a few more times. Again to no effect.
Grumbling the teen moved onto the next step. He got into his stance and thrust his palm forward.
"Purity!" Palm forward, shift the magic like so, exhale on shout.
Nothing.
Samael grit his teeth and continued anyway. No one had ever said his path was easy. Even being shown it in detail by divine guidance only meant he had a path forward.
The sun set on his practice. Again and again. Switching back and forth between Grace and Purity. Samael ate when he needed to, drank his water frequently, and continued to try again and again.
He refused to be stopped by something as simple as doing it wrong. He knew he was. The vision he had was not something he would doubt. It wasn't something he would allow himself to doubt.
The first inkling of the path forward came when it was pitch black. It wasn't like Samael needed to see much honestly. The starlight was enough. The lack of the moon was no hindrance. He could get a rune light if he wanted too, but that would draw a bit of attention. He looked insane, and he knew it. Better to not invite the trouble.
"Grace!" Sharp exhale. Push magic into breath. Hand clap.
There was a glimmer of sense there. How his breath flowed out and expanded with the clap. How the magic flowed around.
Encouraged, Samael paused for a long moment. The night was silent. The light was out. Only the stars above and his breathing.
The teen inhaled and exhaled. Feeling the mana in his body. Remembering that book he'd read long ago on magic. Magical spells were achieved by a set of steps that anyone who studied learned quickly.
First, you learned to feel your mana. You needed to have used a spark first. It was another sense that was gifted with the spark. It was the power that made able to become something beyond mortal.
Second, you needed to focus your magic into either an object or a limb. Objects were easier because they could hold more, and messing up would typically just cause damage to the object instead of the body. There were a lot more rules than that, but that was the standard part.
Once you had the focus, you then needed to visualize what you wanted. Magic Missile was the quintessential example. You focused on the thought 'I want an arrow to hit that.' Process and target. The Magic Missile was the easiest because everyone could imagine that.
Then came the hardest part. Which sounded really silly to someone who didn't realize what you were doing. You had to evoke the 'title' of the spell. You had to be sure of the spell. You had to know, with faith and certainty that it would work. There were legends of Archmages being tricked and not being able to cast spells based on that doubt.
There were tricks and such to make the last part easier. One of the easiest was demonstrating it to someone else. If you see it with your own eyes, then you can do it too basically. You could also convince yourself through practice and working out how the magic worked. But in the end if you doubted you couldn't really cast the spell. At best you'd get something wild and uncontrolled.
Samael's problem wasn't his faith. It wasn't his focus. It was how he was shifting his mana. Everyone could sense their own mana. Mana outside the body didn't count.
For a brief moment though he had sensed his breath outside his body. Samael closed his eyes and breathed. Just breathed. Nothing else.
In and out. He set himself in his stance again. Stand Under Heaven. His mana moved as he had practiced and he stopped thinking. Just moved and breathed.
He focused on his breath as it left his body. Felt the mana for that brief instant. There was the trick. He was focusing the mana wrong. He inhaled deeply, and pushed the mana into his lungs.
The sensation made him shudder for a moment, but he held on for a second. This felt right.
"Grace." He stated in a sharp exhale. His hands clapped in that instant the air had the power.
The surge of power around him was subtle, but the feeling was unmistakable. For an instant the circle of air around him was his. He could stop everything he wanted. It lasted less than a second, and he could tell his version was imperfect. It was enough.
He did it a few more times to be sure. Now that he had the trick of it down he just needed the rhythm and timing.
After a few tries he noticed that the air around him had started to glimmer after each successful cast. He recalled the vision. This was the magic lingering in the air wasn't it? Grace disrupted it and forced it away from him.
Which made why he couldn't get Purity to work easy to notice in retrospect. There had to be more than background magic around. Like a few spells cast.
The teen shifted his stance and exhaled sharply. "Purity." His palm thrust out at the same time, grabbing the power in his breath and pushing.
There was a faint ripple in the air, and Samael grinned. One last technique to do. Hopefully the easiest. He had enough ink, and just needed some light.
That was easily gotten. He moved back to his room in the town. There were other adventurers moving around and the tavern was still quite open, so no one really cared if he was walking around.
His room had a mat in the corner and was more like a closet than anything else, but it was enough for what he needed. Samael lit up the light rune in the side of the wall and pulled out the ink and brush from his box of holding.
Settling himself down, Samael pulled out a mirror and slowly began to write the prayer on his skin. Letter after letter. It went down his left side and over his heart. Down to his stomach. A prayer for protection.
He messed up horribly, and Samael winced as he realized how bad his brush work was.
This, this was probably going to take the longest amount of time. The teen sighed and put away the ink and got up. He needed to practice with something cheaper first.
MooGoesCow21
Just Listen to me....
- Location
- US Washington
Soooo Monk title is in his future?
Going to be a plot point, but yes.
Genesys
(Discrete Mokona)
- Location
- California
Downsides of a hard-knock education: horrible penmanship? Heh.
Learning a technique after getting a demonstration specifically outlining how to do it in a day doesn't strike me as very odd. Keep in mind he's been practicing the basis of things already.
Now just because he learned it doesn't mean he's capable of using it in combat effectively though.
Chapter 12
Harry yawned as he walked towards the entrance of the dungeon. He had never told anyone, but the job had gotten so easy by this point that he sometimes literally took a nap on his clear. Not often, but the only way a skeleton could kill him nowadays was probably by gagging him with a bone. When your skin could deflect arrows a little uncomfortable ground was nothing.
"Mornings like this are killing me." Harry stated casually once he made it to the entrance.
"What would you say about that oh yeah, take a break idiot!" Another brawler yelled.
"Hah! You don't want him to take a break! Last time he did it, he did a week long bender and fought with half the town!" Someone stated with a laugh. "Good times!"
"Speaking of week long breaks. You back with us Samael?" Harry turned to the waiting teen.
He was a good kid. Wasn't likely going to stay with them long, but a good kid. The question wasn't whether the kid would leave, it would how he'd leave. Typically it was by switching titles. Harry didn't peg him for doing that though. Those people tended to pick up a weapon and use it in clears. So, it was time to see what trick he had cooked up.
"Is that a tattoo?" Someone asked curiously as they spotted the scrawling text written across the teen's skin.
"Sort of." The kid shrugged and traced a finger. "Type of ink actually. Does it look ok?" The look he gave was innocent, but Harry would guess there was a story there.
"Eh, not an Angel Caller, so their prayers aren't my thing." The one who asked the question shrugged.
"Got the prayer right. Good penmanship." Another man offered ambivalently.
"Yer usually downstairs right now." Harry butt in at this point and continued with something he did have to mention. "You know I got a few people 'mentioning' that floor two's challenge was changing a bit recently." He chuckled. "Something to keep in mind. You step on toes if you do full clears on lower floors. No one will call you out, but doing it constantly does get people annoyed."
"Heaven's Samael." One brawler breathed out and shook his head. "That had to have taken most of the day."
"He went down several days in a row too." Someone else chimed in.
Samael winced. "Oh heaven. I'm sorry about that."
"Don't worry. It's a newbie mistake." Those happened often. That particular bit of etiquette didn't come up much anyway. Even most veterans didn't even realize you could do that since harder dungeons took too much time and effort.
"Anything else I should know? Now that we're talking about this?" Samael asked curiously and looked at Harry with wide eyes.
"Offhand? Most adventurers do day on, day off." Harry ticked off the few customs he knew. "Don't assume people are in trouble unless you see them cripped, or crippled. There are more than a few techniques that need people bleeding to work."
"Fucking berserkers." Someone spat, and a few people shuddered.
Harry nodded and continued. "It's considered a dueling insult if you take a chest while someone's fighting around it. Healers get first priority on things, pointmen second…" He was missing something. Ah. "Duels, and you will fight duels sometimes, are fights to cripped, not to death. Break their legs in our case. Arms too. Don't sever limbs, though we don't have to worry about it."
Samael winced at the last statement. "Mind clarifying cripped?"
"That's hard to do. Typically if they can't use a limb you're going to want to call them that. There are people who can fight on impaled clean through. You want to watch if they're continuing hard. You'll get an eye for it if you look for a while." Harry shrugged. Some titles had insane shit.
"Thank you Harry. You've helped a lot, so I'm hoping you'd help a bit more if you could?" Samael looked at the man hopefully.
"You want a buddy for level three." Harry stated.
Samael looked caught off guard and the rest of the brawlers laughed loudly. "We've all done it once!" One person butted in.
"Yeah, it's sorta a custom. That's what makes or breaks a brawler. Sure, let's go. Hope you don't mind me leading you there. Done this a few too many times to be patient." Harry moved into the next level and watched Samael catch up.
Honestly, by this time the dungeon probably knew him like an old lover. Harry had been in and out of it so many times that the jokes he could make were obscene. He liked to think it knew him too because the thing didn't pull much bullshit on him nowadays. Not that it could do anything to hurt him, but sometimes you heard tales of rooms shifting and harder fights than normal.
Harry just had to walk to the entrance of the next level. Brushing aside the skeletons on the way was busy work. They shattered into dust from one strike, and he could walk through their weapons. Hell, he was getting sleepy again just from sheer boredom.
Floor three's staircase was typically tucked into a corner room. Harry found it quite quickly, and lead the way down. Then nodded to a wide eyed Samael.
"All yours now." He stated absent mindedly as he tried to guess what the boy was planning.
Didn't seem like a throwing weapon. Those tended to lead to a title switch. Maybe he'd figured out Frost Snare's weakness? If you jumped at the right time you could mitigate it some since you wouldn't stick to the ground. It wouldn't help with Magic Missile though.
Harry grinned fondly at the group in the next room. Ahh, he knew the dungeon liked him. It was a six pack of mages. Two with staffs, two with daggers, and two with books. The dagger ones could be confused with weapon users if you didn't know them before too. Those daggers did horrible things if they tasted blood.
The kid surprised him though. He stood still as they readied themselves. Not quite positioned right for the jump.
The staff skeleton's aimed their staffs as the two book ones opened their books. The two dagger ones started to charge at the same time.
Samael didn't move for a critical second, and Harry's eyebrows rose. He could have at least gone for the dagger ones. Not that it would do that much. This was a nasty combo. Frost had already gone up his legs, and two magic missiles were just starting to form from the behind the book users.
"Grace!" The shout and clap started Harry.
A circle appeared around the boy for an instant. The frost disappeared and the dagger users were knocked back.
Harry blinked. That hadn't been a brawler skill. It hadn't been a skill he knew either, and he liked to think he knew most of the introductory ones.
Samael moved into a strange sort of stance as the Magic Missiles flew through the air. He took a step forward, and thrust his palm straight ahead.
"Purity!" He shouted.
The Magic Missiles went wild and Samael immediately moved. Another stride forward and he smacked aside both dagger users.
Harry glanced at the casters in the background. Those four should have been gathering up more mana for a spell. You could typically see a subtle glow on the tools once you knew to look for it. Nothing was there as Samael charged them.
The glow of mana gathering appeared after a moment, but the time been more than enough for Samael to crush another one. More frost snapped onto Samael's legs, and the teen stumbled a moment.
Harry winced at the catch. Newbie mistake unfortunately. You had to learn to prioritize. Though typically at this time you had an ally normally. Or at least other titled people did.
Two magic missiles arched thought he air again before Samael could do that strange spell again. Right before they hit, he managed with a shout and a clap. Unfortunately it appeared that there were limitations to it. The first missile impacted the strange circle with a shimmer of light, but the next one just went through Samael and impacted his head.
The boy staggered, bloodied and likely stunned.
Harry stepped in before things could get troublesome. It was really just a matter of sprinting to the mages in question and shattering them. Done and done. A bit more bonedust on his hands.
"Damn." Samael whispered after her recovered, and winced at the pain.
"There's a reason we get Iron Skin." Harry noted. "And why I make sure people are ready before hitting floor too. A bit less defense and you'd have lost your head. You likely got your skull cracked." He looked forward and winced. "Yeah I see bone."
Samael paled and dropped to his knees, pressing a bloody hand to his head. He winced after a moment and realized what he was doing. A moment later he had a chunk of bread out and was eating it.
"Good." Harry nodded and thought a moment.
"I can explain?" Samael half asked and half stated.
"I don't want to know." Harry replied flatly. "Declare yourself." He crossed his arms and loomed.
"I'm Samael the Brawler." The teen replied immediately. Then blinked.
"Annnd fuck." Harry rubbed at his forehead. "Now, don't get me wrong kid, this isn't a bad thing really. I'm guessing you picked up this new stuff from somewhere and practiced it. You're still using your fists, but I ain't ever heard of a title aside from brawler that uses fists. We got issues because of that."
"I don't really understand what you're saying." Samael stated flatly.
That wasn't surprising. Another bit of etiquette with adventures was rearing up. "You've either transitioned to a new title, or you're getting another one soon. The problem is, no one, and I mean no one will want to party up with someone without a title." Harry let his hands drop and chuckled. "Not that it matters much with brawlers."
"Why does that matter? Also, can't I just." Samael paused and waved his hands, before taking another bite of bread. His head had stopped bleeding thankfully. "Make up a title I suppose?"
"Doesn't work that way. Some sort of mystical nonsense. Also it matters because at some point people will want you to declare yourself. If you can't say you're a brawler, things will get bad for you." Harry raised a hand to stop Samael from protesting. "You're not doing anything wrong. You just need to find out what you new title is as soon as possible."
"Ok, how do I do that then?" Samael asked reasonably.
"That's where the problem is I said. You need a party. You need a party because you need to get out of here. You need to get out of here because the only people that can figure out new titles are in other spots!" Harry shouted out the last part with irritation and huffed.
Samael frowned. "Can't I just buy passage out?"
"Your best bet is to get to a veteran's town. You need something from fifth level boss and five gold coins." Harry replied back with a flat tone.
Samael sputtered at the price. Harry couldn't blame him there. The guys in charge tended to stay out of adventurer life in general, but they did jack up prices everywhere. In particular high costs to leave were almost encouraged.
One gold coin was twelve silver coins. One silver coin was twelve copper coins. One copper was coin was typically enough to eat for a day in the town. They were magical items that later dungeons typically dropped as currency. You could split them up into twelve parts, and that was how the exchange rate worked with money changers. Even copper coins could be split apart, though there wasn't a smaller denomination.
A day's work for a brawler was a half silver a day if you did it quick. An adventurer could manage maybe six silvers if they got to the end of this dungeon. If they got a book, that was an additional six silvers.
"How do people even leave then?!" Samael protested.
"They clear it again and again." Harry stated. "Now, I'd be glad to help once or twice, but people would notice. You do not want to be noticed." Harry snorted. "Dunno what would happen, but I can't say it'd be good."
"Shit." Samael stated. "So what do I do?"
"Well…" Harry frowned and looked around the rough hewn walls of the dungeon. He didn't quite know, but he did have a possible idea. "I know a Thug that works for hire. You hire him and split the loot. He's got his own issues that keep him here. You'd both be able to help each other, and he's quiet about his work. No one will care if you dungeon crawl with him."
"A Thug for hire?" Samael's eyebrows creased in a frown and he rubbed at his forehead. Looked mostly healed to Harry's eyes.
"Don't tell me you're prejudiced against thugs." Harry scolded.
The teen hunched in on himself. "Bad experiences with them."
"It's a title with baggage." Harry agreed. "You don't have many options. Thugs can transition into a fair few other titles. He's going for bodyguard, hence his working for pay."
"I'll try." Samael muttered.
"You better. That's the best of your options." Harry stated flatly.
"Mornings like this are killing me." Harry stated casually once he made it to the entrance.
"What would you say about that oh yeah, take a break idiot!" Another brawler yelled.
"Hah! You don't want him to take a break! Last time he did it, he did a week long bender and fought with half the town!" Someone stated with a laugh. "Good times!"
"Speaking of week long breaks. You back with us Samael?" Harry turned to the waiting teen.
He was a good kid. Wasn't likely going to stay with them long, but a good kid. The question wasn't whether the kid would leave, it would how he'd leave. Typically it was by switching titles. Harry didn't peg him for doing that though. Those people tended to pick up a weapon and use it in clears. So, it was time to see what trick he had cooked up.
"Is that a tattoo?" Someone asked curiously as they spotted the scrawling text written across the teen's skin.
"Sort of." The kid shrugged and traced a finger. "Type of ink actually. Does it look ok?" The look he gave was innocent, but Harry would guess there was a story there.
"Eh, not an Angel Caller, so their prayers aren't my thing." The one who asked the question shrugged.
"Got the prayer right. Good penmanship." Another man offered ambivalently.
"Yer usually downstairs right now." Harry butt in at this point and continued with something he did have to mention. "You know I got a few people 'mentioning' that floor two's challenge was changing a bit recently." He chuckled. "Something to keep in mind. You step on toes if you do full clears on lower floors. No one will call you out, but doing it constantly does get people annoyed."
"Heaven's Samael." One brawler breathed out and shook his head. "That had to have taken most of the day."
"He went down several days in a row too." Someone else chimed in.
Samael winced. "Oh heaven. I'm sorry about that."
"Don't worry. It's a newbie mistake." Those happened often. That particular bit of etiquette didn't come up much anyway. Even most veterans didn't even realize you could do that since harder dungeons took too much time and effort.
"Anything else I should know? Now that we're talking about this?" Samael asked curiously and looked at Harry with wide eyes.
"Offhand? Most adventurers do day on, day off." Harry ticked off the few customs he knew. "Don't assume people are in trouble unless you see them cripped, or crippled. There are more than a few techniques that need people bleeding to work."
"Fucking berserkers." Someone spat, and a few people shuddered.
Harry nodded and continued. "It's considered a dueling insult if you take a chest while someone's fighting around it. Healers get first priority on things, pointmen second…" He was missing something. Ah. "Duels, and you will fight duels sometimes, are fights to cripped, not to death. Break their legs in our case. Arms too. Don't sever limbs, though we don't have to worry about it."
Samael winced at the last statement. "Mind clarifying cripped?"
"That's hard to do. Typically if they can't use a limb you're going to want to call them that. There are people who can fight on impaled clean through. You want to watch if they're continuing hard. You'll get an eye for it if you look for a while." Harry shrugged. Some titles had insane shit.
"Thank you Harry. You've helped a lot, so I'm hoping you'd help a bit more if you could?" Samael looked at the man hopefully.
"You want a buddy for level three." Harry stated.
Samael looked caught off guard and the rest of the brawlers laughed loudly. "We've all done it once!" One person butted in.
"Yeah, it's sorta a custom. That's what makes or breaks a brawler. Sure, let's go. Hope you don't mind me leading you there. Done this a few too many times to be patient." Harry moved into the next level and watched Samael catch up.
Honestly, by this time the dungeon probably knew him like an old lover. Harry had been in and out of it so many times that the jokes he could make were obscene. He liked to think it knew him too because the thing didn't pull much bullshit on him nowadays. Not that it could do anything to hurt him, but sometimes you heard tales of rooms shifting and harder fights than normal.
Harry just had to walk to the entrance of the next level. Brushing aside the skeletons on the way was busy work. They shattered into dust from one strike, and he could walk through their weapons. Hell, he was getting sleepy again just from sheer boredom.
Floor three's staircase was typically tucked into a corner room. Harry found it quite quickly, and lead the way down. Then nodded to a wide eyed Samael.
"All yours now." He stated absent mindedly as he tried to guess what the boy was planning.
Didn't seem like a throwing weapon. Those tended to lead to a title switch. Maybe he'd figured out Frost Snare's weakness? If you jumped at the right time you could mitigate it some since you wouldn't stick to the ground. It wouldn't help with Magic Missile though.
Harry grinned fondly at the group in the next room. Ahh, he knew the dungeon liked him. It was a six pack of mages. Two with staffs, two with daggers, and two with books. The dagger ones could be confused with weapon users if you didn't know them before too. Those daggers did horrible things if they tasted blood.
The kid surprised him though. He stood still as they readied themselves. Not quite positioned right for the jump.
The staff skeleton's aimed their staffs as the two book ones opened their books. The two dagger ones started to charge at the same time.
Samael didn't move for a critical second, and Harry's eyebrows rose. He could have at least gone for the dagger ones. Not that it would do that much. This was a nasty combo. Frost had already gone up his legs, and two magic missiles were just starting to form from the behind the book users.
"Grace!" The shout and clap started Harry.
A circle appeared around the boy for an instant. The frost disappeared and the dagger users were knocked back.
Harry blinked. That hadn't been a brawler skill. It hadn't been a skill he knew either, and he liked to think he knew most of the introductory ones.
Samael moved into a strange sort of stance as the Magic Missiles flew through the air. He took a step forward, and thrust his palm straight ahead.
"Purity!" He shouted.
The Magic Missiles went wild and Samael immediately moved. Another stride forward and he smacked aside both dagger users.
Harry glanced at the casters in the background. Those four should have been gathering up more mana for a spell. You could typically see a subtle glow on the tools once you knew to look for it. Nothing was there as Samael charged them.
The glow of mana gathering appeared after a moment, but the time been more than enough for Samael to crush another one. More frost snapped onto Samael's legs, and the teen stumbled a moment.
Harry winced at the catch. Newbie mistake unfortunately. You had to learn to prioritize. Though typically at this time you had an ally normally. Or at least other titled people did.
Two magic missiles arched thought he air again before Samael could do that strange spell again. Right before they hit, he managed with a shout and a clap. Unfortunately it appeared that there were limitations to it. The first missile impacted the strange circle with a shimmer of light, but the next one just went through Samael and impacted his head.
The boy staggered, bloodied and likely stunned.
Harry stepped in before things could get troublesome. It was really just a matter of sprinting to the mages in question and shattering them. Done and done. A bit more bonedust on his hands.
"Damn." Samael whispered after her recovered, and winced at the pain.
"There's a reason we get Iron Skin." Harry noted. "And why I make sure people are ready before hitting floor too. A bit less defense and you'd have lost your head. You likely got your skull cracked." He looked forward and winced. "Yeah I see bone."
Samael paled and dropped to his knees, pressing a bloody hand to his head. He winced after a moment and realized what he was doing. A moment later he had a chunk of bread out and was eating it.
"Good." Harry nodded and thought a moment.
"I can explain?" Samael half asked and half stated.
"I don't want to know." Harry replied flatly. "Declare yourself." He crossed his arms and loomed.
"I'm Samael the Brawler." The teen replied immediately. Then blinked.
"Annnd fuck." Harry rubbed at his forehead. "Now, don't get me wrong kid, this isn't a bad thing really. I'm guessing you picked up this new stuff from somewhere and practiced it. You're still using your fists, but I ain't ever heard of a title aside from brawler that uses fists. We got issues because of that."
"I don't really understand what you're saying." Samael stated flatly.
That wasn't surprising. Another bit of etiquette with adventures was rearing up. "You've either transitioned to a new title, or you're getting another one soon. The problem is, no one, and I mean no one will want to party up with someone without a title." Harry let his hands drop and chuckled. "Not that it matters much with brawlers."
"Why does that matter? Also, can't I just." Samael paused and waved his hands, before taking another bite of bread. His head had stopped bleeding thankfully. "Make up a title I suppose?"
"Doesn't work that way. Some sort of mystical nonsense. Also it matters because at some point people will want you to declare yourself. If you can't say you're a brawler, things will get bad for you." Harry raised a hand to stop Samael from protesting. "You're not doing anything wrong. You just need to find out what you new title is as soon as possible."
"Ok, how do I do that then?" Samael asked reasonably.
"That's where the problem is I said. You need a party. You need a party because you need to get out of here. You need to get out of here because the only people that can figure out new titles are in other spots!" Harry shouted out the last part with irritation and huffed.
Samael frowned. "Can't I just buy passage out?"
"Your best bet is to get to a veteran's town. You need something from fifth level boss and five gold coins." Harry replied back with a flat tone.
Samael sputtered at the price. Harry couldn't blame him there. The guys in charge tended to stay out of adventurer life in general, but they did jack up prices everywhere. In particular high costs to leave were almost encouraged.
One gold coin was twelve silver coins. One silver coin was twelve copper coins. One copper was coin was typically enough to eat for a day in the town. They were magical items that later dungeons typically dropped as currency. You could split them up into twelve parts, and that was how the exchange rate worked with money changers. Even copper coins could be split apart, though there wasn't a smaller denomination.
A day's work for a brawler was a half silver a day if you did it quick. An adventurer could manage maybe six silvers if they got to the end of this dungeon. If they got a book, that was an additional six silvers.
"How do people even leave then?!" Samael protested.
"They clear it again and again." Harry stated. "Now, I'd be glad to help once or twice, but people would notice. You do not want to be noticed." Harry snorted. "Dunno what would happen, but I can't say it'd be good."
"Shit." Samael stated. "So what do I do?"
"Well…" Harry frowned and looked around the rough hewn walls of the dungeon. He didn't quite know, but he did have a possible idea. "I know a Thug that works for hire. You hire him and split the loot. He's got his own issues that keep him here. You'd both be able to help each other, and he's quiet about his work. No one will care if you dungeon crawl with him."
"A Thug for hire?" Samael's eyebrows creased in a frown and he rubbed at his forehead. Looked mostly healed to Harry's eyes.
"Don't tell me you're prejudiced against thugs." Harry scolded.
The teen hunched in on himself. "Bad experiences with them."
"It's a title with baggage." Harry agreed. "You don't have many options. Thugs can transition into a fair few other titles. He's going for bodyguard, hence his working for pay."
"I'll try." Samael muttered.
"You better. That's the best of your options." Harry stated flatly.
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Dragonskyt
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
- Location
- Kiln of the First Flame
Probably meant 'startled', right?
Also very interesting. So there's a chance there are people around who happened to pick up a particular set of skills, and now they have no idea what kind of class they are anymore?
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
Likely limitations of traditional RPG classes in the face of unrestricted skill-trees in real life.
A Warrior is someone who swings away with a sword, but what do you call a Warrior that can pick traps/doors/chests, cast protection and confusion spells, hit a deer 100 meters out with a hunting bow and sing 20 different walking songs?
Seems like they end up reverting to Untitled until they develop enough of a leaning/bias to fall into a Title's category again.
Addendum: Perhaps, if one were dedicated enough to become Renaissance Man and dabble in absolutely everything, they might end up becoming a... Hero?
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Dragonskyt
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
- Location
- Kiln of the First Flame
Or maybe 'The Adventurer'
That would be one heck of a way to declare yourself.
Chapter 13
Samael had avoided the pub in the town at night. He had known where it was of course. It had the best and cheapest meals in the day. It was just that night was when the drinking occurred. Bad habits were hard to break, and he'd developed more than a few when it came to drink.
The Thug he needed to talk with was in there though, so the young man had to grit his teeth and bare with it. He didn't technically need to drink, but if you didn't want water you had no other options. It was either water, the cheap beer, or the cheap swill that passed as wine.
Samael entered the pub in a mildly annoyed mood that got worse once he got in. People were shouting, waving mugs, and he could spot most of the brawlers here as well. The sound was very familiar and the lights were warm and inviting. He was already itching for a fight.
He suppressed the instinct and moved to the back of the bar. The Thug in question was supposed to be near one of the corner tables. Samael spotted him after a moment and idled up to him. He was a wide man with a square face. Almost ugly with the shallow beard and crooked nose. This was a bit of novelty since most Adventurers were highly attractive.
"You the Thug people hire to get down in the dungeon?" Samael asked flatly, and ignored the cheer behind him as someone won at a dice game.
"Yeah. Brawler right?" The Thug nodded. "Need a buddy for floor three?"
"Does everyone know that?" Samael sighed and slumped in the chair next to the man.
"Brawlers get itchy and try different things to get there. If Harry ain't available then it's me. Just so you know, my fee for that is two silvers." The Thug stated casually and took a long drink on his mug with his left hand.
The word tickled at Samael's head and he looked at the man. The features seemed to match. "You're thieves guild." He stated flatly, fighting down the sudden rush of absolute rage.
The Thug raised an eyebrow and took another long pull on the drink. "Was, but yeah. That a problem?"
"You don't even remember me do you?" Samael choked out and gripped at the table. He wanted to move over the thing and smash the other man's face in.
"Kid, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't get Thug by sitting around drinking." The man waved the mug he was wolding higher in the air, and a barmaid walked up after a moment with another full one.
"Alleyway, with your buddy?" The teen shot back quickly. "You know the entire mob, and some stupid iron shavings trick?"
"Do you have any idea how many times I did that? Just so you know, I worked for the thieves guild for ten years. One night I had to do that shit three times in the same alleyway." The Thug started on his drink again moodily.
The dismissive attitude hurt more than had the the man recognized him. Samael was an inch from just lunging. He needed this though. And his faith dictated forgiveness. So he pushed the anger down and smothered it.
"I need a buddy for a full clear of the dungeon." Samael changed the subject. "What are your rates for that?"
"You... Are a Brawler right?" The Thug asked and frowned at the look on Samael's face. "Shit don't answer that. Whatever secret you have shouldn't be said in a pub like this." He set down the mug and rolled his fingers on the table.
"You not up for it?" Samael asked after a moment.
"Shush." The Thug held up his hand and then nodded. "All right. I'll give you the good rate for that since we're from the same place." He smiled grimly. "We split loot. You get first call on items. You pay me a silver beforehand."
"Not very interested in the items aside from the last boss." Samael muttered. "I could offer to give you whatever we find and I take three fourths of the money?"
"Need money myself." The Thug raised his right arm, and Samael's eyes raised in horror at the missing hand. "Former thieves guild. Just so you know, I still kick ass."
"Shit, what happened?" Samael gasped out, and felt a brief stab of shame.
"Nothing personal." The Thug's grim smile widened. "Nothing I'm going to share either." He dropped the arm. "Need enough for a prosthetic from the necromancers. Once I get that I can work on either bodyguard or Maceman." His smile drooped and he gave Samael a glare. "I don't need the pity kid. I'm a Thug. Hell has no pity for true sinners, and I did sin."
"Yeah." The teen backed into his chair and nodded. "Then I'll take your offer then. Still won't need the items."
"I'll grab heavy armor that drops, and we can sell the rest." The Thug waved his one hand in dismissal. "Meet you out there tomorrow after Dawn Clear?"
"Sounds good." Samael had no problems with that. "I'm Samael." He hesitated there.
"I'm Knuckles." The other man nodded casually as if he hadn't noticed the pause. "Will meet you there. Have the pay."
The younger man nodded and got to his feet. On his way out, there was another set of cheers and mugs passed around. For a serious moment he was tempted. It would have been so easy.
But no. He was stepping forward. It was not time to step backward. Not even an inch if he was willing. Samael was finally seeing a path ahead. He couldn't step off that for self indulgence.
The teen chuckled to himself as he walked out of the pub. It probably helped that it would save him some money. He seriously needed to do that if he wanted to get out of the place in a reasonable timeframe.
The Thug he needed to talk with was in there though, so the young man had to grit his teeth and bare with it. He didn't technically need to drink, but if you didn't want water you had no other options. It was either water, the cheap beer, or the cheap swill that passed as wine.
Samael entered the pub in a mildly annoyed mood that got worse once he got in. People were shouting, waving mugs, and he could spot most of the brawlers here as well. The sound was very familiar and the lights were warm and inviting. He was already itching for a fight.
He suppressed the instinct and moved to the back of the bar. The Thug in question was supposed to be near one of the corner tables. Samael spotted him after a moment and idled up to him. He was a wide man with a square face. Almost ugly with the shallow beard and crooked nose. This was a bit of novelty since most Adventurers were highly attractive.
"You the Thug people hire to get down in the dungeon?" Samael asked flatly, and ignored the cheer behind him as someone won at a dice game.
"Yeah. Brawler right?" The Thug nodded. "Need a buddy for floor three?"
"Does everyone know that?" Samael sighed and slumped in the chair next to the man.
"Brawlers get itchy and try different things to get there. If Harry ain't available then it's me. Just so you know, my fee for that is two silvers." The Thug stated casually and took a long drink on his mug with his left hand.
The word tickled at Samael's head and he looked at the man. The features seemed to match. "You're thieves guild." He stated flatly, fighting down the sudden rush of absolute rage.
The Thug raised an eyebrow and took another long pull on the drink. "Was, but yeah. That a problem?"
"You don't even remember me do you?" Samael choked out and gripped at the table. He wanted to move over the thing and smash the other man's face in.
"Kid, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't get Thug by sitting around drinking." The man waved the mug he was wolding higher in the air, and a barmaid walked up after a moment with another full one.
"Alleyway, with your buddy?" The teen shot back quickly. "You know the entire mob, and some stupid iron shavings trick?"
"Do you have any idea how many times I did that? Just so you know, I worked for the thieves guild for ten years. One night I had to do that shit three times in the same alleyway." The Thug started on his drink again moodily.
The dismissive attitude hurt more than had the the man recognized him. Samael was an inch from just lunging. He needed this though. And his faith dictated forgiveness. So he pushed the anger down and smothered it.
"I need a buddy for a full clear of the dungeon." Samael changed the subject. "What are your rates for that?"
"You... Are a Brawler right?" The Thug asked and frowned at the look on Samael's face. "Shit don't answer that. Whatever secret you have shouldn't be said in a pub like this." He set down the mug and rolled his fingers on the table.
"You not up for it?" Samael asked after a moment.
"Shush." The Thug held up his hand and then nodded. "All right. I'll give you the good rate for that since we're from the same place." He smiled grimly. "We split loot. You get first call on items. You pay me a silver beforehand."
"Not very interested in the items aside from the last boss." Samael muttered. "I could offer to give you whatever we find and I take three fourths of the money?"
"Need money myself." The Thug raised his right arm, and Samael's eyes raised in horror at the missing hand. "Former thieves guild. Just so you know, I still kick ass."
"Shit, what happened?" Samael gasped out, and felt a brief stab of shame.
"Nothing personal." The Thug's grim smile widened. "Nothing I'm going to share either." He dropped the arm. "Need enough for a prosthetic from the necromancers. Once I get that I can work on either bodyguard or Maceman." His smile drooped and he gave Samael a glare. "I don't need the pity kid. I'm a Thug. Hell has no pity for true sinners, and I did sin."
"Yeah." The teen backed into his chair and nodded. "Then I'll take your offer then. Still won't need the items."
"I'll grab heavy armor that drops, and we can sell the rest." The Thug waved his one hand in dismissal. "Meet you out there tomorrow after Dawn Clear?"
"Sounds good." Samael had no problems with that. "I'm Samael." He hesitated there.
"I'm Knuckles." The other man nodded casually as if he hadn't noticed the pause. "Will meet you there. Have the pay."
The younger man nodded and got to his feet. On his way out, there was another set of cheers and mugs passed around. For a serious moment he was tempted. It would have been so easy.
But no. He was stepping forward. It was not time to step backward. Not even an inch if he was willing. Samael was finally seeing a path ahead. He couldn't step off that for self indulgence.
The teen chuckled to himself as he walked out of the pub. It probably helped that it would save him some money. He seriously needed to do that if he wanted to get out of the place in a reasonable timeframe.
Sometime it's a small world I guess... It's easy to get self-righteous and judgemental when you're the victim, but I'd bet anything Samael beat the hell out of some blameless people when he was full of booze. It'd be interesting to see somebody who was got on the wrong side of his fists during that time period show up with a grudge.
Scholar of Time
Master of Lurking
- Location
- Born of Sands, Raised in Shadow
Incoming disciple to the bodhisattva Sam - calling it right now, Iron Monk Knuckles of the Heavenly Palm.
Vanargand
So tired.....
It seems more like a Mixup
Samael
Angel Church
Tattoos
All the talk of stances and positions, also the long names, do remind of Eastern Martial Arts and stuff
I will laugh if Samael lives to both of his namesakes
Samael- Angel of Death. Serpent. Archenemy
Fallen Angel. Spreader of Knowledge. Forbidden Secrets
Chapter 14
Knuckles met Samael at the entrance of the dungeon at the appointed time as agreed on. The man had changed into what looked to be a mishmash of various armors. His chestplate was dulled steel. He was wearing a pair of pants that looked like they were made of bones. The spaulders were skulls, and the boots were a heavy pair that people tended to favor if they didn't want to sneak. Furthermore, his right arm had gotten a very large shield strapped on it. His left hand carried an almost comically small mace in comparison.
The man chuckled at the look from his new partner. "Welcome to the rookie experience." He spread his arms to show off the armor, and then tapped the skull spaulders with his mace gently. "Just so you know, dungeon armor is the best stuff you can get if you don't make it yourself, or have something commissioned."
"Ahhh." Samael nodded. "Don't use it myself. Iron Skin accounts for most of it."
"Right, about that. Let's go down and we'll talk before the first room." Knuckles stated seriously and led the way.
Samael followed with a perplexed expression. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No." Knuckles called back and looked around. "Ok, no one around. First, pay?"
Samael tossed the man the payment with a flick and tapped his foot on the ground. "What's with the cloak and dagger?"
"For your benefit, since you're stupid about being careful, and this is from a Thug. I am Knuckles, the Thug. I have Intimidate and Foe Check. As my skills." Knuckles gave Samael a knowing look.
"Ah. I am Samael the Brawler." The teen winced at the lack of resonance. "I have Iron Skin, Danger Sense, Grace, Purity, and Last Prayer." He blinked a few times. He had never done the skills like that before. He hadn't expected them to really resonate to be honest.
"Don't know those last three." Knuckles stated neutrally. "You're going for a new title." He nodded. "Makes sense, but it's not one of the common ones."
"That's a problem?" Samael shifted nervously and looked up the stairs.
"Depends what you're going for. I mean, the only title I know off hand that gets people pissy is Killer, but that's it." The Thug shrugged. "You got your reasons. I'm not going to pry. Just keep em quiet since I think they might be good ones. Those last three are weird."
That was oddly touching. Samael flashed the man a smile and clapped his hands together. "We ready to go?"
"You ever partied before?" Knuckles hefted his mace.
"No. There an etiquette I'm not aware of?" Samael asked curiously with a head tilt.
"Yeah, sorta. Teamworks harder than you'd think. So first, you work close up, at range, or at long range. I'm assuming you're mostly offense." Knuckles twirled his weapon casually as he spoke.
"Close range." Samael nodded.
"Ok, keep on my shield side when you can. Do not get in front of me." Knuckles stated seriously. "If you can, keep things off my back first. Let me lead the way." He paused and nodded to himself. "That's about it. Any of those skills party buffs?"
"Grace is defense. Purity is anti-magic. Last Prayer is the ink." Samael traced the winding prayer over his heart with a hand. "It sort of saves me once."
For a moment Knuckles just stared at Samael. "Shit boy. Whatever." Visibly dismissing it, Knuckles paused. "Now normally I don't have to say this, but you were a brawler. Don't hit me. That will piss me off just so you know."
"I don't plan on it." Samael muttered, good mood gone.
Knuckles snorted and led the way. The first room they hit was a pair of spearmen with axemen behind them. Well, skeleton men.
The Thug just hefted his shield and practically ran at the spearmen. Samael took his stance and moved to the man's right. The second the man met the spears he darted around and smashed the two on his right side.
Casually Knuckles smashed the one with the axe while he fended off the other with his shield. Samael paused a moment at the byplay. Knuckles had said not to get in front of him. After a moment the spear went high and the skeleton died.
The Thug nodded thoughtfully at Samael. "I can see why you're not a brawler anymore."
Samael smiled fleetingly. "Mind if we hurry through this part? It's kinda boring."
"Not a problem. It's boring to me too." Knuckles spat to the side. "You have no idea how many times I've done this floor. Good on letting me finish. When it's calm like that, look around instead of waiting."
"Got it." Samael nodded.
"It's not that big a deal now just so you know. Floor four has stupid little sneaky skeleton dogs. That's when it matters." Knuckles stated and started picking up the runes from the skulls.
"Sneaky skeleton dogs." Samael stated dryly.
"Oh, you have no idea. They like to come from behind and gank whoever's in the back. You tend to need East or West watching for it." The Thug paused. "You'd technically be on East."
Samael nodded. "Positions I assume?"
"You got it. Now let's blitz this." Knuckles grinned as he started going into a jog.
Second floor was incredibly easy with Knuckles along honestly. Samael just had to let them focus on the Thug for a moment and then he used the opening to destroy. Some tried to get at him first, but he just faded behind Knuckles and let the man smash things. Having a partner made this trivial.
Floor three was a little bit harder honestly. They lacked range, so they had to be quick. Fortunately when Knuckles was frosted and pinned, he just hefted his massive shield and kept it up until the spell ended. The magic missiles didn't do shit against it.
Grace and Purity proved their use there quite a bit. They were even more potent when Samael didn't need to use them right at the beginning of the fight and could position himself correctly.
The finished floor three with no real injuries and finding a chest. Inside was a heavy looking bone chestplate.
"Huh, another part I don't have." Knuckles muttered. "Do you mind?"
Samael snorted. "Do I look like I need it?" He gestured down at himself with a smile.
"Always good to ask." The Thug grinned and started to shift around.
He dropped the mace and then slowly unstrapped the shield. Samael politely turned away. He wanted to offer to help, but he knew about some pride. There was a lot more shuffling, and then a clank as the metal breastplate was dropped. Knuckles gave a grunt after a moment.
"There a problem?" Samael turned back around to find the man wearing the breastplate. It looked on, and the outfit looked slightly less rediculous. In fact, Samael imaged that the bone armor looked rather scary when it was fully on.
"Nah. Just adjusting from the magic infusion." The Thug huffed. "Always takes a lot out of me." He began the laborious process of strapping his shield on with one hand.
"Never did it myself. It's supposed to tie up your magic right?" Samael tilted his head.
"Yeah, less for using it in other things, but it makes it fit right." Knuckles answered absentmindedly. "It's why everyone prefers different armor and another reason why mages wear robes." He checked the straps on his shield.
Samael laughed "Mage Armor is the other reason right?"
"Yeah. Friggen bullshit, but take what you can get." The Thug nodded. "Ready for floor four?"
"Sneaky dogs. Anything else?" Samael asked with a grin.
"There's traps." Knuckles grimaced. "And flaming exploding skeletons."
Samael's grin dropped. "Shit."
"Let me take those. That's what the shield's for." The Thug patted the shield. "They charge quick and explode when they're close. Intimidate has them go right after me."
"Yay. Floor five must be a vision of hell." Samael muttered.
"Those are the freaky skeleton knights. And the boss. A skeleton knight that has a nasty spell called Terror Gaze." Knuckles advised.
Samael paused a moment and then laughed and smiled viciously. "Well, I wanted a challenge. Bring it."
Knuckles chuckled. "Just so you know, that's the right attitude." His responding grin was just as vicious.
The man chuckled at the look from his new partner. "Welcome to the rookie experience." He spread his arms to show off the armor, and then tapped the skull spaulders with his mace gently. "Just so you know, dungeon armor is the best stuff you can get if you don't make it yourself, or have something commissioned."
"Ahhh." Samael nodded. "Don't use it myself. Iron Skin accounts for most of it."
"Right, about that. Let's go down and we'll talk before the first room." Knuckles stated seriously and led the way.
Samael followed with a perplexed expression. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No." Knuckles called back and looked around. "Ok, no one around. First, pay?"
Samael tossed the man the payment with a flick and tapped his foot on the ground. "What's with the cloak and dagger?"
"For your benefit, since you're stupid about being careful, and this is from a Thug. I am Knuckles, the Thug. I have Intimidate and Foe Check. As my skills." Knuckles gave Samael a knowing look.
"Ah. I am Samael the Brawler." The teen winced at the lack of resonance. "I have Iron Skin, Danger Sense, Grace, Purity, and Last Prayer." He blinked a few times. He had never done the skills like that before. He hadn't expected them to really resonate to be honest.
"Don't know those last three." Knuckles stated neutrally. "You're going for a new title." He nodded. "Makes sense, but it's not one of the common ones."
"That's a problem?" Samael shifted nervously and looked up the stairs.
"Depends what you're going for. I mean, the only title I know off hand that gets people pissy is Killer, but that's it." The Thug shrugged. "You got your reasons. I'm not going to pry. Just keep em quiet since I think they might be good ones. Those last three are weird."
That was oddly touching. Samael flashed the man a smile and clapped his hands together. "We ready to go?"
"You ever partied before?" Knuckles hefted his mace.
"No. There an etiquette I'm not aware of?" Samael asked curiously with a head tilt.
"Yeah, sorta. Teamworks harder than you'd think. So first, you work close up, at range, or at long range. I'm assuming you're mostly offense." Knuckles twirled his weapon casually as he spoke.
"Close range." Samael nodded.
"Ok, keep on my shield side when you can. Do not get in front of me." Knuckles stated seriously. "If you can, keep things off my back first. Let me lead the way." He paused and nodded to himself. "That's about it. Any of those skills party buffs?"
"Grace is defense. Purity is anti-magic. Last Prayer is the ink." Samael traced the winding prayer over his heart with a hand. "It sort of saves me once."
For a moment Knuckles just stared at Samael. "Shit boy. Whatever." Visibly dismissing it, Knuckles paused. "Now normally I don't have to say this, but you were a brawler. Don't hit me. That will piss me off just so you know."
"I don't plan on it." Samael muttered, good mood gone.
Knuckles snorted and led the way. The first room they hit was a pair of spearmen with axemen behind them. Well, skeleton men.
The Thug just hefted his shield and practically ran at the spearmen. Samael took his stance and moved to the man's right. The second the man met the spears he darted around and smashed the two on his right side.
Casually Knuckles smashed the one with the axe while he fended off the other with his shield. Samael paused a moment at the byplay. Knuckles had said not to get in front of him. After a moment the spear went high and the skeleton died.
The Thug nodded thoughtfully at Samael. "I can see why you're not a brawler anymore."
Samael smiled fleetingly. "Mind if we hurry through this part? It's kinda boring."
"Not a problem. It's boring to me too." Knuckles spat to the side. "You have no idea how many times I've done this floor. Good on letting me finish. When it's calm like that, look around instead of waiting."
"Got it." Samael nodded.
"It's not that big a deal now just so you know. Floor four has stupid little sneaky skeleton dogs. That's when it matters." Knuckles stated and started picking up the runes from the skulls.
"Sneaky skeleton dogs." Samael stated dryly.
"Oh, you have no idea. They like to come from behind and gank whoever's in the back. You tend to need East or West watching for it." The Thug paused. "You'd technically be on East."
Samael nodded. "Positions I assume?"
"You got it. Now let's blitz this." Knuckles grinned as he started going into a jog.
Second floor was incredibly easy with Knuckles along honestly. Samael just had to let them focus on the Thug for a moment and then he used the opening to destroy. Some tried to get at him first, but he just faded behind Knuckles and let the man smash things. Having a partner made this trivial.
Floor three was a little bit harder honestly. They lacked range, so they had to be quick. Fortunately when Knuckles was frosted and pinned, he just hefted his massive shield and kept it up until the spell ended. The magic missiles didn't do shit against it.
Grace and Purity proved their use there quite a bit. They were even more potent when Samael didn't need to use them right at the beginning of the fight and could position himself correctly.
The finished floor three with no real injuries and finding a chest. Inside was a heavy looking bone chestplate.
"Huh, another part I don't have." Knuckles muttered. "Do you mind?"
Samael snorted. "Do I look like I need it?" He gestured down at himself with a smile.
"Always good to ask." The Thug grinned and started to shift around.
He dropped the mace and then slowly unstrapped the shield. Samael politely turned away. He wanted to offer to help, but he knew about some pride. There was a lot more shuffling, and then a clank as the metal breastplate was dropped. Knuckles gave a grunt after a moment.
"There a problem?" Samael turned back around to find the man wearing the breastplate. It looked on, and the outfit looked slightly less rediculous. In fact, Samael imaged that the bone armor looked rather scary when it was fully on.
"Nah. Just adjusting from the magic infusion." The Thug huffed. "Always takes a lot out of me." He began the laborious process of strapping his shield on with one hand.
"Never did it myself. It's supposed to tie up your magic right?" Samael tilted his head.
"Yeah, less for using it in other things, but it makes it fit right." Knuckles answered absentmindedly. "It's why everyone prefers different armor and another reason why mages wear robes." He checked the straps on his shield.
Samael laughed "Mage Armor is the other reason right?"
"Yeah. Friggen bullshit, but take what you can get." The Thug nodded. "Ready for floor four?"
"Sneaky dogs. Anything else?" Samael asked with a grin.
"There's traps." Knuckles grimaced. "And flaming exploding skeletons."
Samael's grin dropped. "Shit."
"Let me take those. That's what the shield's for." The Thug patted the shield. "They charge quick and explode when they're close. Intimidate has them go right after me."
"Yay. Floor five must be a vision of hell." Samael muttered.
"Those are the freaky skeleton knights. And the boss. A skeleton knight that has a nasty spell called Terror Gaze." Knuckles advised.
Samael paused a moment and then laughed and smiled viciously. "Well, I wanted a challenge. Bring it."
Knuckles chuckled. "Just so you know, that's the right attitude." His responding grin was just as vicious.
Scholar of Time
Master of Lurking
- Location
- Born of Sands, Raised in Shadow
You're just eager for his moment of taking refuge from the impure world as a monk...who punches shit to death. *nod*