Fate Revealed

by M E Robinson

“Sure,” Eric replied, sending her a friend request. Happily, she accepted it before looking over her shoulder at Tamira and Alex who were both glaring daggers at the pair.

  “Well I’d better go join my friends. Hopefully we’ll run into each other soon enough.”

  “As long as it’s not with weapons this time,” Eric teased which earned him a laugh. Turning around, Katzy rejoined her party who swiftly began to interrogate her. Shaking his head, Eric turned to Owin.

  “So what now?”

  “I’m going to report to Captain Alistair - I’ll mention your contributions. I’m glad that I could make your acquaintance.”

  “You sure you’re not just glad because I saved your life?” Eric asked.

  Owin rolled his eyes at him. “That definitely helps, but it’s also good to see that the otherworlders are helping the kingdom. There were concerns that that would not be the case,” Owin said meaningfully.

  Eric nodded, “The stakes we’re playing for are different. To you, it’s your home. To us, it’s a game of sorts.”

  “Exactly. Anyways, I’m off to report. Keep practicing with the sword. I don’t want to have to rescue my rescuer again,” Owin said with a wink. This time it was Eric’s turn to roll his eyes.

  Bidding the scout goodbye, Eric checked the time. It was almost seven-thirty. He still had a few minutes left before he had to get off for dinner.

  [Quest Complete: Escort Owin to Tonbura Village!]

  You made it! Despite all the problems you caused him, Owin has arrived (mostly) intact to report to Captain Alistair.

  Reward: Increased reputation with Tonbura Village. Increased reputation with Novanalba Scout Corps. Speak with Captain Alistair for another reward once Owin leaves.

  Closing the quest notification, Eric watched Owin enter the barracks. It would probably take at least half an hour before Owin exited. He would have to turn in the quest to Alistair for his final reward after dinner. For now though, perhaps he could sell some of his drops to fund new gear?

  Stretching his arms high above his head, he was just about to head over to Craig’s archery shop when a familiar head of blonde hair popped up right in front of him.

  “Eric!” Astrid squealed, throwing her arms around him and giving the confused half-elf a hug. “I thought you were going to wait for me, but once I teleported you were nowhere to be found.”

  “I was supposed to wait for you?” Eric asked with a bemused expression on his fate.

  Astrid scowled, “Why else would I have added you as a friend, silly? I thought we were going to party up.”

  “Ah. My bad,” Eric apologized awkwardly.

  “It’s fine. I went out and hunted monsters on my own.” Pausing, Astrid looked Eric over, taking in the torn clothes, the burn marks, and the bloody hole in his pants leg.

  “It looks like you had a fun time doing the same,” she commented wryly.

  Following her gaze, Eric suddenly became conscious of the terrible state his clothes were in. What had once been his wool doublet was now a shredded set of rags, with multiple saber and claw marks revealing the skin underneath. An enormous burn mark from his fight with the elite wolf still covered almost half of the remaining fabric, while smaller burn holes from his ill fated experiments with various rune shapes covered his sleeves and pants.

  His pants were slightly better off, however, the hole from his first encounter with a demonic rabbit had only grown in the time since then. And the legs below the knee were ripped and torn by a multitude of wolf fangs. Looking at his attire, Eric could suddenly see why Astrid was blushing lightly as she looked him over. Attempting to awkwardly cover his exposed chest elicited a giggle from the blonde elf.

  “Not that I mind the view, but you should probably get those fixed. Or even better buy some new armour,” she giggled.

  “Yeah I probably should,” he agreed. “Any idea where I can find some?”

  “There’s a tanner near the archery shop.”

  “Near Craig’s?”

  “The fletcher? Yeah. The tanner was called Doreen? I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I’m not actually all that great with names,” Astrid confessed guiltily. Eric laughed at this.

  “No worries, I can just pretend I don’t know who she is. I’m headed towards Craig’s shop anyways, want to tag along?”

  “Ah I can’t actually. I’m just about to head out with some friends.”

  “Your friends are in this village?” Eric asked with a surprised expression.

  “No, they started in the town but agreed to meet me here. I was actually just leaving the village to meet them on the way when I saw you. We’re going to be doing quests and hunting for a few days. Shoot me a whisper if you ever figure out how if you want to join us.”

  Eric laughed, “Sounds good. Anyways, I’m going to try and get some new stuff before I log out. Have a good one.”

  “You too!” Astrid said with a bright smile, giving him another quick hug before she left. Watching her walk away, Eric watched as she gave him one last wave goodbye before heading for the Western gate.

  Finishing the stretch he’d began several minutes ago, Eric began to walk towards Craig’s shop. Leaving the Northern gate, he made his way through a few side paths, taking a shortcut towards the western part of the village.

  As he passed by a number of somewhat rundown wooden houses, the sound of a large explosion suddenly rang out, the panes of glass in the windows of the houses nearby quivering in their frames. Diving down beside the fence, Eric crouched down and reached for his sword, looking around frantically for the source of the attack. After a few moments of silence, he cautiously peeked his head back above the fence. The path was still silent, a few pieces of wood had fallen off the house nearby but no one emerged to see what had happened.

  Slowly standing up, Eric looked around curiously. If it wasn’t for the lingering effects of the explosion, he would have sworn it hadn’t happened at all. Holding his sword tightly he continued to walk slowly down the road, passing the houses one by one. As he was about to reach the end of the row of houses, the village wall looming tall in front of him, a hand grabbed him from behind.

  “Gyaaah!” Eric shouted, bringing his sword close to defend himself.

  “Boy, are you dumb or just stupid? The hell do you think you’re doing waving that thing around in the middle of the village in broad daylight? Put it away before you hurt yourself,” a cold voice told him. A flash of light blinded him as something smashed into his hand, knocking his sword from his grip and sending it skittering over the cobblestones below.

  Cradling his hand, Eric squinted through his half-blinded eyes, attempting to find his assailant. As his vision solidified, a petite woman appeared in front of his eyes, with dark clothes and skin so pale it seemed to glow in the pale sunlight. A pipe hung from her hand, while mana swirled around the other, ready to be unleashed against him should he show any signs of resistance.

  “Who are you?” Eric asked, wincing as he felt his hand which still stung from whatever spell she’d used to send his sword flying.

  “Doesn’t seem like that’s any of your business now does it? The better question is why are you snooping around my backyard with your sword drawn?”

  “Errr. I heard an explosion and thought perhaps the village was under attack. I just didn’t want to be caught unawares,” Eric tried to explain.

  The woman rolled her eyes, “Ugh. An otherworlder right? I should’ve known that no sensible person would be stalking around in front of a mage’s laboratory with weapons drawn.”

  “You’re a mage?” Eric asked curiously, his prior trepidation towards the mysterious woman now forgotten.

  “Yes, and quite a good one. Not that you otherworlders would know a good mage from a sack of magic potatoes,” she sniffed derisively.

  “There are magic potatoes?”

  “That’s what you got from that?” the mage asked incredulously. “Mirna save us. Are these people really our only hop
e?” she muttered, looking up at the sky.

  Eric frowned, despite her magical prowess, the lady in front of him lacked more manners than even Alistair. Still, as a mage she was clearly someone important in the village. Creating an enemy here would only hurt him in the future. Steeling himself, he looked down at her.

  “So you’re a mage. Does that mean you can teach me magic? I’ve been looking for an instructor since I arrived. But I didn’t think that Tonbura village would have someone who could teach magic.”

  “Since you arrived. You mean two days ago? Such trials you must have endured in this search of yours,” she responded sarcastically, observing him a little before continuing, “Yes, I’m Lucy Morningstar, mage of Tonbura Village and First Student of Archmage Marvyn Seasplitter. But I don’t teach magic to those without the aptitude,” she said derisively.

  Eric’s face fell, he had been hoping that she could teach him some more runes. He’d been shocked at just how powerful the Wind Blade spell had been when he used it at the stony hill. He wanted to experiment and discover more runes, but ever since his experiments on the first day, he’d been loathe to attempt magical spells on his own. At least not before receiving proper tutelage.

  Hearing that she did not teach magic to the unqualified, Eric was about to take his leave when an idea struck him. “I understand, do you think you could tell me where Filoketh is located? I have a letter of admission for the mage academy there,” he explained. Retrieving Arthal’s letter from his storage to show her.

  Snatching the letter from his hands, Morningstar’s eyes grew wide as she read the contents. Her gaze flitting between the letter and Eric who stood there with a bemused expression. The mage had gone from dismissive and rude to snatching the letter from his hands and reading it with a rapt expression on her face. So from dismissive and rude to interested and still rude. But at least it was a small improvement, he thought wryly.

  Unaware of his thoughts, the mage finished reading Arthal’s letter, covering her mouth with one hand as she coughed in an embarrassed manner before handing it back to him.

  “You have a letter of admission from one of our kingdom’s great mages? That does qualify you to learn magic from me. But I don’t teach for free. If you can bring sufficient silver, I will teach you various runes and their applications. Otherwise, you may feel free to journey to Filoketh out in the west. It’s about a week and a half’s travel from Tonbura,” she snapped.

  Eric grinned. Even if she was still rude, at least now she was rude and helpful. Far better than the rude and dismissive attitude she’d had moments before.

  “I’ll be sure to visit once I’ve acquired sufficient funds to learn from the esteemed Mage Morningstar,” he said with a bow. Sneaking a glance at her face he could have sworn he saw her gaze soften slightly at this action, though whether or not she had would have to remain up for debate as she chose this moment to turn around and march back towards her house.

  Just as Eric was about to leave, her voice rang out from over her shoulder, “Common spells cost a minimum of five silver to learn. Don’t bother me if you don’t even have that.”

  With a cheerful salute, Eric left the mage’s house behind, continuing towards the fletcher’s shop. That had been an interesting encounter, but definitely one that would benefit him. Arriving in front of Craig’s shop, Eric was about to enter when he saw the time. Eyes widening, he raised his hand and shouted his logout phrase, light swirling around him as he left Fate and returned to the mundane world.

  - Epilogue -

  Owin’s Report

  Stepping inside the barracks, Owin made haste towards Captain Alistair’s office. Avoiding the tables and benches scattered throughout the room with practiced familiarity. Knocking on the door, he entered without awaiting an answer.

  “Lieutenant Owin Mills, Novanalba Seventh Scout Unit reporting to the Commander,” said Owin, snapping his hand up to his forehead in a quick salute.

  “I ain’t a commander no more. And you should be more careful with how loud you are. This place ain’t as secure as Seacove was,” Alistair growled.

  “Aye, Commander. I come bearing grave news,” said Owin, retrieving a scroll from a pouch hidden inside the lining of his vest. Alistair’s face grew grave as he reached across the table and grabbed the scroll.

  “Standard encryption?” asked Alistair.

  “Kingdom level.”

  “Shit.”

  Opening his desk drawer, Alistair pressed a hidden button, triggering a small compartment that shot out to reveal a small wand. Taking the wand, Alistair cast a complex series of runes at a dizzying speed. As the last rune was cast, he stamped the wand directly in the middle of the formation: a gorgeous rune in the shape of roaring lion emerging from the wand.

  Taking the scroll, Alistair pressed the seal on the front of the scroll to the rune formation. With a dull roar, the seal broke, the scroll bursting open. As the scroll unfurled, a runic formation on the scroll activated, projecting an image of a bustling camp into the air above the desk.

  Observing with interest, Alistair watched as the image panned across the camp, showing a large number of goblins bustling about, setting up tents and tending to weapons. Small groups of wolfriders patrolled the vicinity, preventing the image from getting any closer.

  As the image panned over the camp again, it jolted, suddenly moving back to hold the focus on a large tent in the middle of the camp. As Alistair watched, an enormous goblin emerged from the tent, followed by a wolf even larger than the one Eric had helped Owin kill the day before.

  “A hobgoblin? With a direwolf mount?”

  “Aye, commander. We stayed as long as we could to observe. There are at least two more hobgoblins, though none as big as this one. Worse yet, the large one’s wolf isn’t just a direwolf. It’s a Black Direwolf.”

  “The royal guards?”

  Owin nodded, “It seems so. The other two only have normal gray-maned wolves as their mounts.”

  “Even so, for there to be a Black Direwolf in the forest... The Ironfrost King has kept a firm grip on their breeding. Only royalty and members of the royal guard are allowed to ride them. Are you absolutely sure this isn’t just a rogue tribe with a chieftain that was once a royal guard?” Alistair asked, his face a grim mask as he stared at Owin. Owin gulped, the pressure the Lord Com- no, the militia Captain was giving off was no laughing matter.

  “Absolutely sure, my lord. Originally we were five. In order to obtain this, we fought a wandering patrol. Unfortunately, Henry and James were overwhelmed after a second patrol joined the first. However, we were able to prevent the commotion from spreading. Afterwards we were noticed and had to flee for our lives, Wynnie sacrificed herself to divert our pursuers long enough for Wylls and I to escape. Unfortunately in our haste, we ran into an enormous red-maned wolf. Were it not for the timely intervention of a militia member who identified himself as Erick, we would have both died. As it is, Wylls was killed. But I escaped with the recording.”

  “Erick Kystfyr? The otherworlder? Half-elf with a bow slung over his back and torn clothing?” Alistair asked in surprise.

  “That sounds like him. So he was an otherworlder after all?” asked Owin.

  “Aye, he only began his militia service yesterday. He brought in a large number of demonic rabbit pelts. Far more than I would have expected him to be able to obtain alone.”

  Owin nodded, “Well he saved me,but unfortunately not Wylls. We burned his body and continued towards the village. Unfortunately, the riders caught up after we were delayed by a different group of otherworlders with a grudge against Erick. Luckily, he was able to convince them to help us repel the goblins after a brief tussle.”

  “Any idea why they held a grudge?”

  “They said something about drops and player killing. I wasn’t listening all that well to be honest. I was paying more attention to whether or not our pursuers had caught up.”

  A lightbulb seemed to go off above Alistair’s head, “And after th
at?”

  “We managed to kill the goblin wolfriders without any casualties. Afterwards, Erick and the others escorted me back to the village. I came to report as soon as I arrived.”

  “What about the encampment? Did you see anything else noteworthy apart from the hobgoblins and the Black Direwolf? Perhaps a tribal banner. Or a preference towards certain weapons. I know that the Rustblood Goblins favoured flails in the last war. And the Wolfgnawers had mounts that were larger than usual. Both those tribes were led by a member of the royal family in the war.”

  Owin thought hard for a moment, “They seemed to favour sabers. I saw very few bows. They had a large number of scouts. Like I said, we were caught defeating a patrol by a second patrol that we weren’t expecting. They had at least double the usual number of guards but there didn’t seem to be any less soldiers setting up camp than there would be normally.”

  Alistair’s face hardened, “Did you see any sigils or banners with an eye, cut through the middle by a scar?”

  Pondering for a moment Owin brightened, “Yes actually! Commander, there were a few banners such as those. But they were outnumbered by banners bearing the standard goblin bloody hand insignia.”

  “So they’re still loyal to the goblin king if not necessarily the Ironfrost King,” Alistair muttered, taking notes on a small scroll.

  “Which tribe uses the scarred eye?” said Owin, ignoring the temptation to sneak a peek at Alistair’s scrawls.

  “The Whitescars. King Gobnil’s information unit. And one of the best advance units of the Ironfrost Horde. They specialize in subterfuge and misinformation. Them being here means that one of or perhaps even worse both the Goblin King and the Ironfrost King are planning to set up a forward base as a staging unit for an invasion of Novanalba,” Alistair explained, not looking up from his writings.

  Owin paled, his blood draining from his face. Finishing his writing, Alistair looked up at the scout, “Was there anything else? Wrack your brain. I know you’re tired but this information is crucial.”