“That makes sense. I was a powerful mage in another version of this world, but stuff didn’t hurt as badly as they do here,” I said and shrugged off his arm.
“That’s the spirit,” Burlt chuckled. “To training we go.”
Like every NPC, this guy completely ignored it when I spoke of the game world. To him, this was his entire world.
A man and a woman sparred in one corner of the room. They danced back and forth, swords clanging together as they met, exchanged blows, and then backed away. Another guy stood in front of a log dummy and repeatedly smacked it with a mace twice the size of mine.
“That’s what I need to train in,” I said.
“The mace is an excellent weapon although I myself like fighting with a two-handed sword,” he said.
“So you mentioned,” I said and thought of the first NPC I had met in Candleburn. Before she slapped the shit out of me, all she could talk about was what the tavern offered to drink. Broken record much?
“I see you also carry a staff. Another fine weapon although I find a spear more to my liking,” Burlt said.
“Maybe I can carve a point at the end of the staff,” I said with a smirk.
“Aye, there’s a plan. It’s the sort of foresight that will make you a warrior after all,” Burlt said.
“Do you think I should train both the staff and the mace then?”
“That’s your choice. The mace is an honorable weapon, but the staff is also useful. More for casting spells, though, yeah? You pursuing the mystic arts and all.”
“Did the robe give it away?” I asked.
Burlt ran his fingers over the robe’s lapel. “Not as useful as leather or chain, and you’re not ready for plate.”
“Perhaps I should wear chain underneath,” I said. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I was so busy trying to match a particular archetype I hadn’t even considered wearing something a little more practical.
“Aye, that you could. We have a small store here with some beginner armor. Feel free to browse. Leefser knows we could use the coin. I recommend investing in leather armor for you. Less chance of your spells fizzling,” he said.
“Armor will stop me from casting spells?”
“Too much of it can,” Burlt nodded. “I don’t pretend to understand the mystic arts. Follow your calling, and your calling will answer.”
I coughed to hide my laugh. Burlt had just said you do you.
“Now. Let us see to your training.”
“Sounds good to me. Are you going to run your fingers over the skill lines in my book or whatever?”
“This way.” He led me through more warriors battling dummies or each other, and one slim guy with a rapier who swashed at the air, until we reached the back of the room.
“I’ll focus on my mace for now because I’ve already used it in combat. The staff, not so much.”
“A warrior at heart, are you? I have been a fighter from the day I was born with a dagger in my hand.”
“Didn’t that hurt your mother?” I asked.
“You’re a funny one,” Burlt clapped my shoulder hard enough to stagger me. “This way, please.”
I shrugged my shoulders up to resettle my robe, thanks to Burlt Heavyhand living up to his name. Burlt opened the back door to reveal a training yard that ran about a hundred feet away from the guild hall. A high wooden fence lined the area presumably to prevent spying eyes. More warriors worked at their respective skills. A man threw an axe that was larger than my upper body. It thunked into a log and had that wood been a person, he probably would have been split in two.
“Wait. Why are we going out here?” I paused at the door’s entryway.
“You need training, and this is where it occurs,” he said.
“But the mages…”
“This way, lad,” Burlt ignored me.
Holy shit. This guy was going to make me fight him. I suddenly didn’t think that advancing my mace skills was such a good idea. I could always go back to Ansalon and ask the old man to allocate my points back into something else. I could use more mana focus to avoid those migraine-like headaches.
“Don’t dilly dally. The day’s a-wasting.” Burlt grabbed my upper arm and hauled me along beside him like I was a child.
We stopped next to a weapons rack. Rows of swords, spears, axes, shield, and even clubs lay in long rows. He selected a mace that appeared to weigh fifty pounds and hefted it like it was a freaking lollipop.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said again.
“Over here,” Burlt grabbed my arm again.
As Burlt manhandled me across the yard, I scanned it for Karian or Oz. Since they had gone off to train as well, I assumed they would both be here. But I didn’t see Karian, and she would have stuck out like a sore thumb with this mass of cutout people.
Nor was Oz here. Maybe, like me, they had already completed their training and were now sleeping off a hangover or muscle soreness. Or maybe they had been smart and decided that swinging a sword with Burlt wasn’t such a good idea.
I leaned my staff against the rack of weapons and prepared for whatever madness this guy was about to throw my way.
“Lift your mace and show me your grip,” Burlt said.
I hefted my weapon and tried to look like I knew what in the hell I was doing.
“Put your hand a bit lower on the haft,” he said. “Good. Now take a swing at me.”
“Really?”
“Really. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me,” he said.
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I said.
“Come on. Show me what you got.” Burlt planted his feet shoulder width apart, and raised his hands in a defensive stance. His heavy mace gleamed in the morning sun and looked for all the world like the end of my world if he struck me back.
I swung the mace across my body, but I didn’t put much behind it for fear of reprisal.
“That’s not bad,” he said as he shifted one foot back and moved out of the way of my strike.
“Okay,” I said.
“Now lift it a little above your head and this time really come at me,” he challenged.
I swung the mace down, but his hand shot out and closed around the haft, then he yanked it from me.
“That was cool,” I said in awe.
Now Burlt had two maces and I had none. Double impact was surely coming to my head at any second.
“Now this time I want you to swing that mace. Don’t let me take it so quickly,” he said and handed over my mace.
I hefted my weapon again and tried to look mean. I took another swipe but put some power into the blow.
He backed up and urged me on. “Now as the head of the mace passes knee height, think about the momentum. Shift it, so you swing the mace back up.”
I took another swipe and this time brought the mace back up and swung it across the left side of my body.
“More of a figure eight, lad. Let that power bring the mace back around across the opposite side of your body.”
I followed his instructions and created a loop with the mace. As I came across the lower part of my body, I let the swing carry through with its own momentum then lifted it above my left shoulder and swung it back down.
“That’s it. Now keep doing that. Chase me back,” Burlt urged me on.
I swung the mace a few more times and thought my arm was going to fall off. I was so out of shape that if I engaged an enemy for more than a few swings, I was more than likely going to run out of stamina before I managed to kill him.
“That’s it. Now you’re trained to kill,” he nodded as I swung one last time and then let the mace hang at my side.
I tried to not appear lightheaded.
“I am? I mean, I am.” I said with no confidence whatsoever, as sweat broke out on my forehead.
“Hulster. You’re stabbing the straw dummy like he’s your mother. Really get in there and dig the spear around,” Burlt turned and yelled at a man across the field.
The guy
was almost as tall as Junt had been. He snarled, nodded at Burlt, and then drove the spear into the dummy so hard it passed entirely through its body.
‘That’s the spirit,” Burlt called out.
“You run a tight ship here,” I said.
“Have to. Never know when that bastard shard bearer is going to assault the city.”
“Falstace?” I asked.
“You’ve heard of him. I suppose everyone has by now. It’s no secret that he’s the one corrupting our lands. Do yourself a favor and don’t try to fight the bastard. He is stronger than all of us combined.”
Burlt dropped his mace and removed my book from his belt. He flipped through the pages and found the one labeled for weapons.
“That will be a silver,” he said.
Dumbfounded, I dug around in my rapidly diminishing coins and found my last silver piece.
As Burlt took the money, I was assaulted with a dizzy feeling, and once again there were pathways my brain laid bare. Then my mace icon appeared in my HUD, flashed twice, and moved to the top left corner.
“Come back when you’re ready to train again. You’ll be an expert in no time, you’ll see,” Burlt slapped me on the shoulder so hard I thought I was going to fall down.
“Thanks, Burlt.” I took my book, slid it into my bag. “When do you think Falstace will appear?”
“Don’t know. The bastard has been a thorn in our side for a couple of years. We may have to take the fight to him,” Burlt said.
“Burlt,” I asked him because I was genuinely curious how far his AI programming went. “How long have you been the Weslori trainer?”
“Oh, ten or twelve years, I reckon. Before that, I was a warrior up in Greater Nashara. Fought in the wars of dominance and took a few battle scars. Got myself promoted to sergeant and then did the smart thing and retired. You know why you don’t see old warriors? I’ll tell you. It’s because there are none. You either die on the battlefield or get out while the getting is good,” Burlt grinned from ear to ear. “That’s just what I did.”
“So you got, like, a severance package?”
“I severed more than a few limbs while I was in the army,” Burlt leaned back and roared with laughter.
“How long did you fight for?”
“Enough, lad. You’ll wear me out with all the questions. I have a full day ahead and need to get back to the dummies, and I don’t mean the wooden and straw ones,” Burlt once again laughed as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world.
I offered my hand, and he took my wrist in hand and shook it once.
“Is it okay if I smack one of the dummies a few times?” I said.
“Aye. Just don’t smack a recruit too hard,” Burlt threw his head back and laughed again.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You dummies hear that? Let’s look lively, now.” Burlt roared as he advanced into the yard.
I wandered around the area, avoiding dueling recruits, and found a back area where a man and woman in light leather armor shot arrows at a straw dummy. I watched them for a few minutes and marveled at how quickly they were able to draw, notch, and loose. Grayson had seemed very capable with a bow, but he had also gotten his face eaten by a very pissed off poppa bear.
The pair armed with longbows made it look easy. Maybe I should look into learning the bow at some point. It might make it easy to kill mobs from a distance or pull them to our group. That would have worked well with the wasps yesterday.
I found a wooden dummy and removed the mace from my belt. It felt lighter in my hand, and I automatically changed my grip the way Burlt had taught. I looked around to make sure no one was paying me any heed then wondered why I was self-conscious at all. None of these people were real.
I aimed for the head, swung the mace around in an arc over my head, and utterly demolished the wooden face. I tried again and this time chunks of wood flew.
Then I tried the figure eight swings that Burlt had shown me. I backed up, came in swinging, and then finished with a strong blow that took a chunk out of the dummy’s shoulder and sent part of the appendage flying.
I propped the mace against the dummy, took out my book, and opened it to the weapon’s page. Burlt had done his magic and allocated points to the mace. I’m sure you’re thinking, big deal, Walt. You leveled up your magic skills with the mages. But here’s the thing, the little increase had impacted my skill a great deal. This wasn’t a game, not since we had died and been resurrected near a shrine. It was all too real. My bruises and scars could attest to that.
Yet here was the link to how I advanced in the game in my hand. Then there was the link to the real world provided via the HUD. I’m telling you. A lesser man might have lost his shit with all of this thought swirling around my noggin.
With my book back in place, I brought the mace up and swung it underhand. Then overhand again. Then from the side. Finally from the other side. Chips of wood flew each time I made impact, and it was very satisfying.
I looked up to find that the sun had advanced across the sky. How long had I been here?
I grabbed my staff, hooked the mace back to my belt, and headed back to the Crimson Mage’s Guild.
THE MINUTE I reached the back entrance to the guild, a warrior stuck his sword though a dummy and called out. “A moment of your time, friend.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I said under my breath.
“I’m Fuller Mane, a recruit at the warrior’s guild. I left my home a month ago and have not had time to assure my mother that I’m doing well. Burlt Heavyhand is a fierce task master, and I do not wish to let him down. If you would carry a letter to her I would be ever so grateful,” he pulled a folded piece of parchment from his tunic and held it aloft. “After delivery I am certain my mum will treat you to a meal and then offer a few coins for your service. Her location is marked on a map on the back of the letter. I must get back to training now.”
Fuller Mane pressed the paper against my chest until I accepted it. He nodded once and then went back to killing his straw dummy again.
“Hey, Fuller. How about an advance on delivering the letter? I need to buy some new armor.”
“I have no coin,” Fuller said. “But I can lend you a chest piece. Come with me.”
I followed him back inside, through the main hall, and to a barracks in the southern wing of the guildhall. Doors lined a long hallway, and as we passed each entryway, there were rows of beds with chest before each.
“Thanks for this,” I said.
“It is no problem. I myself have graduated to heavier armor, so it is plate from now on, but I have some old gear. You have my gratitude for carrying the letter to my mother,” he said.
I wondered if this was part of the quest. If I’d been playing in VR would an option to ask for armor have appeared? Maybe I got lucky, and maybe this was simply the AI deciding for the NPC. Would I even have a chance to deliver this letter? In the game, it wasn’t unusual for a quest to have a time limit. Maybe I could hold onto his missive until I stumbled across the woman’s home out in the wild.
We entered the second doorway on the left and then he escorted me to his bunk. A pair of young recruits hung out near the back of the room. They had been leaning close and speaking in hushed tones. When they got sight of us, they stood up and acted like they hadn’t been up to some devious shit.
“Nolan, Rupert,” Fuller nodded at the men.
“Got a new friend?” one of the men asked.
“He is doing me a favor, Nolan. Not that it is any of your business,” Fuller said as he knelt to open his chest.
“He’s a fancy one,” Nolan grinned like an idiot. “What sort of favor? I always suspected you had a thing for men.”
“It is none of your concern,” I said in a voice I hoped sounded menacing. “In fact, why don’t you guys piss right off?”
I concentrated on the men and found them to be a blue and a yellow. I might have a chance at taking one of them out or at least slowing him. I really sho
uld check my HUD before I told someone off.
“None of our concern? Everything that happens with our fellow recruits is of our concern.” Nolan moved away from his friend, put his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles. “Wouldn’t you agree, towser?”
I was just about sick to death of that term.
“Do you truly wish to meddle in the affairs of The Crimson Mages?” I asked and spun with a flourish of my robe and allowed the pendant to swing free.
I gripped my staff tightly between my two hands and summoned the spell just as Ansalon had taught me but held back from release. Cold tendrils gathered around my hands and chilled the staff. An expanding ball of frost coalesced before me.
Nolan stopped in his tracks and looked back at his friend for support. Rupert must have had second thoughts. He shrugged at his friend and casually strolled out of the room.
I trickled a tiny bit more mana into the spell as I built it up. That was new. I guessed it was a side effect of Ansalon’s teaching.
“You have something more to say?” I paused dramatically. “Towser?”
I hated bullies.
“Put down that staff, and I’ll offer a few words,” Nolan sneered. “You’re just some low-level mage, I can see it in your eyes. I don’t need Rupert to back me up.”
He flexed his impressive muscles and took a step toward me.
“Listen,” I said, suddenly unsure of myself. My bluff had worked for a few seconds, but as soon as this guy got his hands on me, he would wipe the floor with my corpse. “Perhaps we can come to some arrangement. I have a few coppers.”
“Trying to buy your way out of a fight?” Nolan scoffed. “The only arrangement’s going to be on display at your funeral. When I get done pissing on your corpse.”
Nolan didn’t finish his sentence. Maybe it was an accident, or maybe he had droned on too long. Whatever the case I lost control of the spell and a blast of frost larger than any had thrown before leaped away from my hands. It caught Nolan in the midsection, lifted him off his feet, and tossed him into the wall so hard it shook.
Nolan collapsed in a heap, took a deep breath, then rolled over onto his back and rubbed at his belly where the frost still swirled over his tunic.
SHARDS OF REALITY: A LitRPG novel (Enter the Realm Book 1) Page 19