Mageblood

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Mageblood Page 4

by Christopher Johns


  “A dark wolf.” The dwarf waved it away. “Probably an alpha if it spoke to ye. Be creatures who typically cannot come through the barrier protectin’ the trainin’ grounds, but at night they’re stronger ‘n craftier. So, they can get in. Any more than one or two, and they attract too much attention and begin to be hunted by guard and huntsman.”

  “Sounds like that alpha was banking on making an enemy.” I growled.

  “Heh!” The dwarf smacked his knee. “Yer a funny wanderer. It’ll be some time afore yer ready to hunt an alpha like him. Let’s get ye trained up afore then, aye?”

  I clapped my hands and rubbed them together in expectation. “Alright!” I looked at the dwarf. “What’s first?”

  “Well, first we need to confirm what yer magical gift is.” He motioned for me to slow down with a grin. “Open yer status screen, then look at the section that says, ‘gift’ for me.”

  “Status,” I whispered into the air.

  The whiteboard that I had seen when I was with Mephisto popped up, showing multiple tabs on it. The stats tab was greyed out, which was odd, but the gift one was what I was after.

  I touched it, then watched as it opened and showed me what my gift is.

  Mageblood – 50% resistance to magical damage.

  “Wha—” I shook my head in confusion. “That’s not right. How is this right?”

  “Well, the Gods are hardly ever wrong, lad,” the dwarf replied gruffly. “What’s yer gift then?”

  “It’s my namesake, but it gives me a fifty percent resistance to magical damage.” Honestly, I felt highly cheated. “Has this happened before?”

  “How am I s’pose to know, lad?” He harrumphed grumpily. “I know at least two hunnert folk what would give anything to have somethin’ like that. Besides, gifts never stay the same—they evolve an’ grow with the wanderer. What ye have now may be the beginning stages of somethin’ else.”

  That went a little way toward easing the tension in my gut. Though I still wondered what my fans might think of the huge change. Would they blame me? Think I’m fake?

  I had always been the grand mage type before, glass cannon with a badass spell for almost any occasion, and now I was getting eaten alive by rodents.

  “Lad?” I blinked at the smaller man before leaning under me to look me in the eyes as I thought. “Ye there?”

  “Okay, so, where are we?” I snapped out of my doubting, and then thought to add, “And what’s your name?”

  “I’m Felix, wanderer.” The dwarf puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders. “And I’ll be trainin’ ye in the art of not gettin’ yerself killed. Again.”

  “Ha-ha.” Though I was acting like a sullen child and knew it, he was kind of funny. “Nice to meet you, Felix. I’m Kyvir Mageblood. Pleasure.”

  I offered my hand to the dwarf who looked at it strangely before taking it in his own gingerly. After seeing it was no trick of any sort, he took a firmer grasp and shook my hand firmly.

  “Let’s go train ye then.” Felix turned and walked away.

  “Is there a way for me to find my friends?” I called as I followed along.

  He looked over his shoulder as we plodded through an open thoroughfare through another gate on the inside of the wall. Then waved a hand for me to continue following.

  I held my myriad of questions until we reached Felix’s destination. The goal, it seemed, was a large circular area with six training dummies evenly spaced from each other and black colored rats held in by a fence. When I say rats, I mean rats. As large as a small dog. Typical gaming fair, but I was here in the area with them. They seemed docile enough. Scurrying from hay pile to hay pile.

  “Now, about yer friends,” Felix started. “I’m assumin’ these friends are other wanderers?”—I nodded excitedly—“They will be in their own individual training areas. There were one or two who came through here earlier on, but they were able to leave rather quickly. Until ye leave here, though—yer mine.”

  “You got it, boss,” I responded with a smile. The sooner I could leave, the better. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

  “A real down-to-business man. I like ye, lad.” Felix’s eyebrows raised appreciatively. “If ye had a firin’ magic, like fire, water or somethin’—I’d have ye shoot the dummies first from here. Then work on hittin’ the rats as they scurry about. But, ye don’t. So, tell me then, Kyvir. Do ye prefer blunt or a bladed weapon?”

  “Uh, I’m n-not sure,” I stammered a bit after that.

  Sure, I had used weapons in past games. Staves, wands, and other magical items, but never like this. I’d swung a bat when I was younger.

  “Well, never too late to learn, lad.” Felix smiled wistfully for a moment. “‘Member the first time I held me axe. Felt right. Ye’ll find a weapon for ye. Stand here and think o’ ways to fight those there rats until I come back.”

  The man walked away swiftly toward a low, squat building more than a hundred yards away. He kicked in the door to the building and roared into the room. A raucous roar sounded in return and the door shut.

  I was worried for a moment, but when I didn’t hear the sound of an outright brawl, I turned my attention back to the training at hand.

  Unless these were some kind of plague rats with magic, they were just normal—huge—rats. Animals. That meant my gift was next to worthless.

  I would need to be sure to keep them away from the hay piles so that there was less of a risk that multiple rats would rush me. There were some small stones and pebbles that I could possibly throw? Another bang drew my attention away.

  Felix shambled out of the room with another laughing and smiling dwarven man following him. The dwarf looked me over appraisingly.

  “Master Kyvir, I take it?” His brusk tone, but amicable demeanor were all business at that moment. His graying beard worked in thought, and his beady eyes looked me over more thoroughly than they had at a distance. “Gimme yer paws, lad. Let me look at yer main tools.”

  I chuckled at him calling my hands ‘paws,’ but held them out for him anyway. He grasped my right hand, checking the palm and fingers individually. Then did the same with my left hand. He nodded and walked behind me. When I went to turn with him, Felix touched my shoulder and shook his head.

  “Raise yer arms out to the side,” the other dwarf ordered. I obeyed, and he said, “Down. Now forward. Over yer head. In front. Just yer right. Left now. Bend yer knees.”

  He walked back around in front of me before continuing, “Raise yer right arm, make a fist and pull the fist like ye’d swing a blade. Make it crisp, lad.”

  I did as he instructed, and he began to call directions for me to swing my “blade.” It was an interesting thing to do, but I liked it—it was different.

  After I finished and I was a little sweaty, which was definitely new to me in a game, the dwarf put his hands into his beard. He ran his fingers through the graying hair and tugged at it for a moment.

  “Sword, spear, axe, shield, and possibly even the glaive,” he said finally. “Anything else would take too much time to teach him to handle proper.”

  Felix whistled low. “Thank ye, Master Filk. Do ye have anythin’ the lad can use ta make his way through trainin’?”

  Filk thought for a moment. “Aye. Gimme a mo’, laddie.”

  Filk hobbled back toward the same door Felix had gone into, kicked it open, and roared loudly. Another raucous reply greeted him, and the door slammed shut. If he hadn’t told me to stay behind, I’d have run over to see if he was alright.

  “Okay, one—who was that?” I looked at Felix. “Two, what the hell is in that building?”

  “That was Master Armorer Filk, man has forgotten more about the art o’ fightin’ and equippin’ soldiers ‘n fighters than you would likely ever learn. And that is his domain—the armory. The lads in there maintain the weapons and equipment.”

  “What’s with the screaming when you come in?” My brows crinkled in confusion.

  “It’s a precaution.”
Felix grinned. “Anyone goin’ into his realm is to announce hisself, or the lads get to play. And by play—I mean kill ye. So, if ye ever mean to enter his armory, ye best be loud about it.”

  “Noted, thank you, Felix.” The dwarf nodded in return, and I asked my next burning question. “So, those motions he was having me go through?”

  “He was checking how yer body would move if ye held a weapon.” Felix pulled out his axe. “He was lookin’ for deformity in the muscles’ motion through a position, or specific movement. Each movement would serve a function with a weapon in hand.”

  “That’s amazing,” my eyes widened, my voice hushed in awe as I took a second glance at my hands then toward the place the older dwarf had walked into.

  “I told ye he were good, lad,” Felix responded coolly.

  “And ye better grease tha’ leather proper, lad—or I’ll tan yer hide and show ye how, eh?” Filk shouted at someone in the room as he left it. Then he turned and hobbled over to us once more.

  As he came to us, a grin appeared on his aged face. “What good lads we have here, Felix! Smart, and quick as whips, they be.”

  “Weren’t you just threatening them?” I tried to keep my nose out of things normally, but this was too interesting not to ask.

  “Oh, aye.” He nodded sagely. “Apprentices get complacent an’ make mistakes if ye don’t yell or shout a little every now an’ then.”

  Hard to argue with logic like that. I shrugged and waited to hear what was next.

  Filk reached in front of himself, and his arm disappeared for a second before reappearing. He began handing weapons to Felix, who just held his arms out like a rack. There was a sword, a spear, an axe, shield, and the last one resembled a spear but had an axe-like head to it.

  “Ye look confused—the last one there be a glaive. Or a type o’ one. It’s for beginners.” Filk explained. “Let’s ye get a feel for the proper use o’ the weapon before ye go daft an’ start to using the double-headed kind an’ hurt yerself.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I reached for it, but he rapped my knuckles with a stick he must’ve pulled from his inventory.

  “Ye get the sword an’ shield for now. Clear the rats from the trainin’ grounds in twenty minutes, an’ ye can pick any one other weapon as a backup weapon. I will let ye know, they are poorly made. So, there are much better weapons that ye will find out there once ye leave.”

  “Why would you give out a poorly made item?” I tried to keep the disgust and confusion from my tone, first out of respect, and second out of fear. If he took them back, I’d be shit out of luck.

  “Poor quality be cheap to make and practice with.” He waved to the item dismissively. “Ye use that and don’t get yerself killed? Ye’ll likely be a’ right to use proper weapons, but tha’ be like throwin’ away coin—and I do nae waste coin, lad.”

  A notification bounced into view obscuring everything from view.

  QUEST RECEIVED – Kill all the rats in the training grounds before the end of 20 minutes. Reward: Double experience and one back up weapon from Master Filk. Failure: No added experience, weapons must be bought.

  “Seems straight forward.” I picked up the shield in my left hand and the sword in my right. There were nicks and dents in the shield, and the sword was top-heavy and leaned to one side, the crossguard was wobbly at the top of the hilt. “Man, you weren’t kidding about poorly made weapons.”

  “It’s a weapon, lad.” Felix shrugged and let Filk take the rest from him. “Havin’ somethin’ sharp on yer side is never bad.”

  “Are they not supposed to have any stats?” I stared at the sword and shield intently, but nothing happened. “Where are my stats?”

  Filk shook his head. “Weapons of poor quality and lower have no stats. They deal minimum damage for the weapon ye use, which is typically one. After poor, which is common—ye begin seeing stats. As for yers? Ye gotta earn ‘em.”

  His guffawing as he said that last bit made me roll my eyes, What harebrained game makes you earn your stats like this?

  I nodded, then walked toward where the entrance to the training grounds was. The gate was simple, it latched on this side with a bar and string over the top. I stepped into the training area and found that there was a musty scent vaguely familiar to our class pet rat’s little cage. It had been years since I had smelled something similar, but it was so gross I guess I never forgot it. It came from the closest hay pile. But, thinking back on my earlier decision to use some of the stones and pebbles I saw on the ground, I had the beginnings of a plan.

  I transferred the hilt of the sword to my left hand, where the shield was. It wasn’t really all that heavy of a shield. It was wooden, about the size of a pizza box, and stained brown with two leather straps to secure it to the wielder’s arm. And the sword wasn’t that heavy, either.

  I knelt, grabbed a stone, and threw it into the hay pile as hard as I could.

  1 dmg to Rat.

  “Oh, that’s so cool.” I smiled as I looked for another stone. I heard a shriek and saw that I now had company.

  Lvl 1 Rat – Hostile

  “Shit!” Its HP bar was only knocked down by one-fourth, and it was careening toward me. While it was cool as all get out that I had done a point of damage to it with a small rock, it was shitty that the thing went hostile straight out the gate.

  Or hay.

  I tried to get my sword into my right hand and tripped over another rock that I hadn’t seen. I rolled onto my back and glanced down in time to see the little beastie clambering up my leg. I grunted, and instead of relinquishing the sword into my right hand, I gripped it with both and stabbed down into the rat’s open mouth.

  CRITICAL STRIKE

  4 dmg to Rat.

  Lvl 1 rat died.

  10 EXP.

  Awesome. I heard a rustling off to my right across the training ground and saw another two of them poke their heads out from another two piles of hay.

  “May wanna stand up, lad,” Felix called. I looked over, and he sat perched on the fencing with two more men. The two guards from the top of the gate! Miff and Sammy. I’d almost bet they wagered another round on this.

  I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could without tripping again. This time I was prepared with the sword in the proper hand. I had it held low. No point holding it high and getting tired.

  “Good form, lad!” Felix called. “Hold yer shield afore ye as they charge. Then, as they crash against ye—jab ‘em good.”

  I took the advice and waited. They approached cautiously, slowly setting one paw before the other as they scanned me for openings.

  I set my feet a little wider apart, shuffling my right foot back a little to get a solid base, pulled my elbows in tight to my body, and waited. They didn’t seem to want to approach me, but the corpse of the rat next to me was still there. So—I kicked it.

  They screeched at me, both of them, and charged forward. I took a steadying breath as they closed in and smacked one away with my shield.

  “Bad move,” Sammy said, then grunted. “Now, he’s left an opening.”

  I didn’t get time to react to that as the other rat swept into the gap between my shield and me. It was able to bite me before I sliced it with the sword. It was a shallow cut, but the rodent let go and backed up.

  1 dmg taken

  2 dmg to rat

  “Might wanna watch his back, right, Sammy?” Miff observed loudly.

  1 dmg taken.

  The other rat bit my left leg and I smacked it with the edge of the shield as the sharp sensation of teeth dug in. Pain wasn’t unheard of in a lot of games like this, something about it helped with realism and the escapism of it. Made it feel like real life. That didn’t mean I wanted to be a chew toy to a group of rodents and that hobbling around from being made one would be okay. It wasn’t enough damage to make me limp or anything, but it did sting.

  1 dmg to rat.

  I growled and sidled out from between them. This was going poorly. I didn’t even have a
health bar yet, damn it. Did I even have stats?

  “Solid idea, lad.” Felix grunted with a chuckle. “Now, take the fight to ‘em.”

  I rolled my eyes but listened. Being on the defensive would be a bad idea. But, one thing I learned from PvP combat, especially in a one on two situation, was to keep one enemy between you and the stronger enemy. Whittle them down and kite, run around if needed.

  The cut rat went between the mostly whole one and me, then I walked in a circle around them. It would try to leap at me, I’d pull the shield up and deflect it. Then I would stab and deal a point of damage because it wasn’t smart enough to see it coming. Two stabs, and it was dead.

  Lvl 1 rat died.

  10 EXP.

  “Properly done!” Miff cheered, though I ignored him and his clapping.

  The other rat looked like it was ready to bolt. An idea occurred, and I feigned an injury dropping to a knee and my shield hanging limply to my side. The rat rushed forward, obviously thinking of an easy victory. As it leapt up toward my face, I sliced up with the blade like I would if I were going to uppercut someone in the face. I felt some resistance and looked down in time to watch the rat’s head fall into the crook of my arm.

  CRITICAL STRIKE

  4 dmg to rat.

  Lvl 1 rat died.

  10 EXP.

  “Oh, that’s gross.” I grunted loudly as I let the head drop and stood before looking around me. At least six more sets of eyes peered out at me from varying locations. “Time to get to work.”

  It took ten minutes to kill all six of them by whittling them down the same way, but I did it. I was starting to get a little tired. Sure, about ten pounds of wood wasn’t much, but after twelve minutes of constantly lugging it around—your arm started to burn a bit. The sword weighed a little less, but it was poorly crafted, and the balance didn’t feel right.

  After the last of them fell, I huffed a bit in pride and turned to Felix and the others with plenty of time left on my counter. “Well, that’s it then!”

  “Did ye get yer quest notification?” Felix raised an eyebrow knowingly.

  I looked around, and sure enough, I hadn’t. “What the hell, man?”

 

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