It wasn’t long before his feet were coated in mud again, and then he was back on the cracked cobbles on the outskirts of the city. Why wasn’t it raining here? It was like the game developers had decided the slums needed rain to make them more depressing.
It took Tim a few minutes heading in a northerly direction before he found a fountain. He took the time to wash off his feet and the bottom of his robe. No reason to look like a total slob. Now that his feet weren’t covered in mud and horse crap, Tim felt a little bit better about the afternoon. Bringing up his map again to reorient himself, Tim started walking.
It turned out he didn’t need the map. The temple was huge—Roman Coliseum huge. It even boasted magnificent marble columns in front. Men in white robes with blue trim moved on the stairs of the temple, ushering people inside for healing.
A priest stopped to talk to a group, then they turned around and headed away from the temple. The man was pulling a small cart behind him with a boy lying inside. The kid moaned as they drew closer.
Not sure why they were being turned away, Tim called out to the man. “Why can’t you go inside?”
“The priest told us they’ve taken enough charity cases for the day.” The man continued moving his family down the road. “I guess we’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”
Maybe there was something Tim could do. He only had the one spell, but it might be worth trying. “What’s wrong with your son?”
“The boy fell on his scythe running when he heard the lunch bell. Cut his damn leg pretty good.” He rubbed his son’s head affectionately.
“If you have a minute, I’d be more than happy to try to help.” Tim equipped his scepter and called on the spell. The ball of water formed in his hand just like it had before. He aimed for the boy’s bandaged leg.
The kid groaned when the water splashed him, then his face sagged with relief. His mother moved forward and started stripping the bandage from his leg. The wound had closed, but it wasn’t completely healed yet.
Tim cast the spell three more times before he was satisfied that the wound was completely healed.
A notification appeared on his screen.
Skill Increase: Your Healing Orb spell has reached novice rank two. The Orbs you cast will now be one percent more effective and will require one percent less mana to cast.
Awesome.
It felt kind of good to use his spell on someone who really needed it. Tim dismissed his notification and took a step back as the boy’s father tried to slip a small bag of coins into his hand.
Tim pushed the coins back toward the man. “I can’t accept those.”
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Take the offering,” a priest hissed in his ear.
The family started bowing and slowly backed away. Tim kept the small purse of coins in his hand as he turned to get a better look at the man who had come up behind him.
The man’s white and blue robes almost seemed to shimmer in the bright sunshine. His lips were turned down in a frown. “It seems you have a small affinity for the healing arts. Come inside, and we can discuss your future.”
Tim turned to say goodbye to the man and his family, but they were already gone. With a shrug, he started up the steps behind the priest. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the man just yet. He’d never met a healer who would turn away an injured child. Something felt off about this whole situation. There was only one way he’d ever get to the bottom of it.
He had to follow the priest into the temple.
Chapter Twelve
Did that guy’s robes just change color?
How much did it cost to get your hands on a set of those, and why didn’t he have them already? Tim quickly inspected the man to see if he could find out more about what he was wearing.
Technicolor Robes of Wandering: +1 to walking speed. Also known to draw the attention of the people around you.
He let his gaze fall on the priest in front of him and tried to use the inspection skill again. This time the skill only came back with the man’s name: Brother Egon.
It was more than he had known about the man a minute ago.
Tim looked around again, slowly realizing that everyone around him looked ridiculously wealthy. Without shoes on, he felt like a beggar instead of someone here to receive training. He didn’t want to go inside the temple, only to realize he couldn’t afford to pay for the temple’s services.
Brother Egon didn’t look like the kind of man who enjoyed having his time wasted. I don’t have any money. “Just how much does this training cost?”
“His eminence has decreed that anyone with the talent will be trained, as long as they bask in the light of the Goddess Eternia.” Egon made a symbol over his chest and looked toward the heavens.
The way Brother Egon had delivered the line made one thing clear. The man in front of him didn’t believe training everyone was right. He only carried out the task because he was ordered to. Normally healers felt a calling to help others, but that didn’t seem to be the case here.
Brother Egon turned around, giving Tim’s bare feet a look of disgust. “Thankfully for you, Cardinal Jepsom, second only to his Eminence, has devised a work program for those of less fortunate circumstances to repay their debt to the temple.”
Work program? Sounded like the kind of thing where you ended up paying four times the cost of the skill in labor. “What kind of work?” Tim looked at the men on their hands and knees, scrubbing the temple steps, and shuddered.
Fuck it. He could scrub stairs with the best of them if it meant learning a few new spells before anyone else could get them.
Brother Egon glanced at the men washing the temple steps. “Something befitting your skills.” The priest glared at Tim. “Certainly you are skilled at something?”
Tim stopped in his tracks. “Why even offer me the chance to come inside? You clearly don’t want me here.”
“His Eminence makes the rules,” Egon snarled. “The rest of us abide by them.”
There was a story to be had there. Obviously, not everything was roses and sunshine inside the Temple of Light. Maybe that was why some of the poor were being turned away. There must be some kind of internal conflict brewing amongst the goddess’ people.
He scanned the parishioners entering the temple again and realized he might be onto something. With all the wealth around him, it was hard to fathom the church not having the resources to help the less fortunate citizens. With no training, he’d healed the boy in a matter of minutes. Why did people have to suffer when a simple spell could heal them instantly?
“It’s fucking bullshit,” Tim mumbled.
“Did you say something?” Brother Egon continued walking deeper into the temple.
“The temple is magnificent. Your order must be very proud.” Hopefully he had bought it.
Egon’s persistent sneer softened into something that resembled a frown. “The Temple of the Goddess Eternia is the finest in the Four Kingdoms. This is where doctrine is created and the high priest resides.”
The high priest must be their version of the Pope. He sounded like he might be ok. It was the cardinal Egon had mentioned who had Tim worried. Just how much did the high priest know about what was happening at the temple?
Tim followed Brother Egon through the winding halls until he lost all sense of direction. They finally stopped outside of a door cast in solid gold. A gong-like sound rang through the chamber, and two giant men moved out of the alcoves and flanked the door.
Placing their hands delicately on the door, the men began to push. Nothing happened at first. Just how heavy are those doors? As Tim watched, the two men strained against the weight. With a groan, the doors separated and started to swing inward on giant gold hinges.
When the gap between the two halves was wide enough for a man to slide through, Brother Egon started forward. Tim followed closely on his heels. As soon as they cleared the threshold, two men inside of the chamber started pushing the massive doors closed.
Fuck, Tim had enough problems getting off the couch to open a regular door. Imagine how pissed these guys would be if his Eminence had a fondness for delivery?
The doors thudded back into the frame, sealing them inside of the chamber. He refused to look back. This was a church, after all. What was the worst that could happen? Instead, he tried to focus on the room in front of him. Frankly, he was a little disappointed.
The entire chamber was solid white. It almost reminded Tim of the loading screen, except this room was carved out of white marble. Pillars rose on either side of him, vaulting the ceiling high enough that he couldn’t see into the rafters.
Dark blue tapestries hung from the walls, matching the single runner leading from the door to a solitary chair. Tim would have called it a throne because of where it was placed in the room, but it clearly wasn’t meant to be intimidating. It was more of the kind of thing he’d expect to find by the fireplace in his room than in this majestic temple.
The chair was occupied by a man in simple white robes with a platinum circlet around his bald head. There seemed to be a war raging on his face as the smile he wore fought to become a full-fledged grin. The best part was that the warmth of his smile reached his eyes. The man was genuinely happy to see them.
Before they made it halfway across the room, he rose to his feet. “Is this the one I heard about? The one who healed the boy on the steps of our temple?” His Eminence looked eagerly at the priest at Tim’s side.
Brother Egon bowed his head in subservience. “It is, Your Eminence.”
When Tim didn’t say anything, Egon elbowed him in the side. The jab to the ribs must have been his subtle hint to speak. Rubbing his side, Tim looked at the high priest, not sure exactly how to handle the situation. What did you say when you met the man who held the key to your entire future?
Did you treat him like royalty, or just go with the flow?
“Hi, I’m Tim.”
Oh, shit. Not exactly what he was going for, but it could have been worse. Much worse.
Quickly bowing his head, Tim added, “Your Eminence.”
“Enough of the ‘Your Eminence’ crap.” The high priest waved his hand as if dismissing something distasteful. “My name’s Paul. I’m pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand.
Should Tim shake it, or was this more of a kiss-the-ring situation? He’d never been much of a kiss-the-ring kind of guy. Just because you had an influential job, it didn’t make you more important than anyone else.
Reaching out, he clasped Paul’s hand. A small zap, almost like the static electricity from a blanket, passed between them as their hands met. That was weird. Maybe Tim was missing something. He tried to inspect the high priest as they shook.
Paul?
If the man hadn’t told him his name, Tim doubted his inspection would have revealed anything. Based on his experience in other games, Paul could probably crush him with his little finger. Not a heartwarming thought, but he seemed to be nice enough.
Tim let go of the high priest’s hand and smiled as he looked around the room. “Thank you, Paul. Your temple is very inspiring.”
Paul sat down. “The structure is inspiring, but it’s not my temple. Everything we do, everything we accomplish, is in service to the Goddess Eternia.” He winked. “Your little display outside makes you just the kind of person we are looking for.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Paul watched Tim closely. “What made you help those people?”
Tim didn’t even have to think about it. “The kid was hurt, and I had the ability to help him. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why, indeed?” Paul shot a glance at the priest before continuing, “You appear to have what it takes to become an acolyte in the Temple of Light. Would you like to join our order?”
It seemed wrong to refuse, but he didn’t know enough about the priests to be sure if he wanted to join. Plus, he couldn’t dedicate himself wholly to the church when he had a job starting in the morning.
“Your Eminence.” Tim paused, feeling slightly silly. “Paul.” He shook his head to compose himself. “I do not want to seem ungrateful, but for now, I am simply looking to advance my skills in the healing arts.”
Tim felt Brother Egon’s withering glare upon him and tried to ignore it, but if Paul seemed disturbed by his answer, he didn’t show it.
“Each of us comes to the Lady in our own time.” He stood back up from his chair. “If it is training you want, then it is training you will receive.” Paul grinned and made the same ritualistic motion over his chest. “May Eternia’s blessings shine down upon you.”
The high priest’s gaze hardened as he turned back to Brother Egon. “Tell Cardinal Jepsom to go easy on this one. I’d like to keep him around awhile.”
“As you command,” Egon bowed his head, “we obey.”
“Stop that shit,” Paul growled. “Just tell him what I said.”
Bowing low, Egon turned away. “Of course, your Eminence.”
Paul looked at Egon’s back for a moment, then reached into his robe and pulled a letter free. His right hand moved through a complicated series of gestures and time slowed to a crawl.
The high priest handed Tim the letter. “Deliver this for me.” He tapped Tim’s head with a single finger. “The location is on your map.”
Quest: Deliver the high priest’s Letter.
Success: Deliver the letter to the location indicated on the map.
Failure: Fail to deliver the letter for any reason.
Reward: The reward for this quest will vary based on completion results.
Accept the quest:
Tim accepted the quest, and as soon as he tucked the envelope inside his robe, time sped back up. Paul was sitting back in his chair, head bowed as he looked over some giant leather-bound tome.
Egon hissed, “Cardinal Jepsom doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Tim cast one last glance at Paul. What had he just gotten himself into? All Edmond Dantes had been tasked with was delivering a letter, and everyone knew how well that had worked out for him.
Turning away from Paul, Tim jogged to catch up with Egon. The doors to the high priest’s chambers closed behind them with the finality of a prison cell.
Chapter Thirteen
Cardinal Jepsom had a big hat.
After five minutes with the cardinal, it was the only nice thing Tim could say about him. He couldn’t even tell you it was a nice hat or a particularly splendid one. It was just big, and tall. The cardinal probably wore the ugly thing because it made him look more intimidating.
Thankfully, it looked like their meeting was drawing to an end.
Jepsom motioned for Tim to follow him to the door. “We have a room set up for you to handle some of our most basic requests. If you can successfully heal ten supplicants, I’ll find some boots for you.”
Quest Received: Heal Ten Supplicants
Success: Heal all ten parishioners
Failure: Fail to heal any of the parishioners completely
Reward: Boots
Accept Quest
Tim accepted the quest. Boots sounded nice, especially when he was going to have to walk through the mud again. Still, he’d come here to learn, not for footwear. He wanted to know what it was going to take to learn a new spell, but if he didn’t approach the cardinal the right way, he was pretty sure the man would make his life a living hell.
Lowering his eyes as Egon had done, Tim searched for the right tone of subservience as he spoke. “Cardinal, I hate to be troublesome, but the high priest implied that I might also receive training.”
Cardinal Jepsom’s smile drew tight. “You have to walk before you run, my boy.” He opened the door to his chambers. “Once you’ve become proficient with your basic ability, we will teach you something new.”
Tim had met people like Jepsom before. You had to make sure you locked in the details, or else they kept trying to take more. He needed to know exactly how long it would take to learn a new skill so he coul
d start planning for the future.
“What level of skill is deemed to be proficient?” Tim lowered his eyes under the cardinal’s withering glare.
I fucking hate this shit.
How did people stand it back in the Middle Ages? Today you didn’t have to bow your head to anyone. For better or worse, we were all the same.
“Apprentice level one should show sufficient dedication,” Jepsom snapped.
Before Tim could respond, Egon grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. “I will show him to his room, Cardinal.”
Jepsom’s only response was to slam the door shut in their faces.
Brother Egon led Tim back through a series of hallways until they reached a simple wooden door. Opening it, he motioned for Tim to join him inside. “I’ll send in your first patient. When you are done, send them back outside. If they offer you anything, place it in the donation box behind you.”
Tim wondered if the donation box was part of a test. If someone gave him a gift and he didn’t put it in the box, they might refuse to train him. Did that mean someone was watching him now?
Looking around the sparse room didn’t reveal any cameras, but there wasn’t electricity, so that made sense. Why did he keep looking for the trappings of technology?
There were probably other ways people could watch you before electricity. They had seers in all the stories, and if there was magic, someone could have a scrying table. Fuck, maybe they wouldn’t even need one.
Not that Tim would ever let his actions be dictated by someone watching. He believed in being himself, no matter what the situation. Tim was more than willing to do a little friendly role-playing if it helped grease the wheels of fortune, just like he had with Jepsom. This was a game, right?
So donations would go in the box, and Tim would pray the cardinal would teach him something useful. Any new skill might give him a leg up on the competition and put him in a position to pick the perfect group, instead of having to accept whatever scraps were left over.
All he had to do was put in the work.
Rise of the Grandmaster Page 10