The tall warrior clapped a hand on Eve’s shoulder. “We’re teammates, remember? It’s my job to keep you alive. This is just as much a part of that as anything I do in the field. Now go find Preston and get those scrapes patched up. If we’re going on another job later, I want your ego to be the only part of you that’s taken a hit.”
Eve laughed, raising a hand to her forehead in mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Alex chuckled. “Good work, soldier. I’ll see you in the field. You’re dismissed.”
* * *
Eve braced against the invasive mercy of Ayla’s light as Preston healed her injuries.
“At least you didn’t dislocate your shoulder again. Maybe this new class is worth something after all.”
She grimaced. “Are all the gods like this or just Ayla? I don’t need a bloody divine revelation every time you patch up a few scrapes.”
Preston shrugged. “Hells if I know. I’d bet if I worked for Loia you’d end up in a battle frenzy instead of feeling absolution.”
“Feels a lot more like scrutiny than absolution. Does She really need to root through my entire past to stop me bleeding?”
“Like I said, Ayla’s not big on boundaries.”
Wes paced across the small bedroom. “I’m just impressed you actually got into the ring with her. You fell on your face the first time you used Run Away; why should Charge! be any different?”
“And immediately after falling on my face I saved your ass, remember?”
Wes snorted.
“Look,” Eve explained, “Alex is angry you got a class you didn’t deserve, and she thinks I’m cocky and too clever for my own good. I needed to humble myself, and failing in the ring was the perfect opportunity.”
“How long did it take you to come up with that excuse?”
Eve grinned. “Twenty minutes. I thought it was a pretty good one, actually.”
Wes laughed. “For Preston, maybe, but I know you well enough to know you’d never take a dive like that.”
“You know what Alex said when I told her about Run Away? That she wouldn’t even consider making fun of someone for their class. Maybe I should go stay with her instead of putting up with your bullshit.”
“Please.” Wes leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “You love my bullshit.”
Preston chuckled, “He’s got you there.”
“No,” Eve said, “I love your scones. Speaking of…”
Wes held up a hand. “I’m trying, I’m trying. I found a baker who makes them, but they’re not cheap. I can pick some up once we get paid for the job tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Preston perked up. “That reminds me. What exactly is this job?”
“There’s a troll, apparently, in the hills east of Lynthia. It’s labeled as standard difficulty, so the pay’s not great but it shouldn’t be too dangerous.”
Eve looked up. “Honestly, I’m okay with that. We don’t have to almost die on every single mission. An easy one will be a nice change of pace.”
“I agree,” said Preston. “I’m super close to level ten—I don’t need to risk my life to get there.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? Getting a Rare requires a bit of risk.”
“I don’t need a Rare class. I’m a healer, remember? I’ll be useful either way, and Uncommon is perfectly reasonable at tier two.”
“Yeah,” Wes teased, “but if you don’t unlock something different, you’ll be stuck in your holy sisterhood. You know you can’t get exp once you’ve unlocked a promotion.”
Preston snapped his fingers. “Good point. Maybe I should murder a few people to get into Loia’s good graces.”
Eve giggled. “If it means no more of Ayla’s bloody mercy, I’m onboard. Who should we kill?”
Preston rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should just stop healing you every time you fuck up.”
“Or,” Wes added, “you could stop falling on your face.”
Eve let out a sharp laugh. “I think we all know neither of those things are about to happen. Falling on my face is as much a part of my class as healing is of yours.” She stood, crossing the rented quarters in but a few strides. “The real question is, how many times will I fall on my face before one of you saves my ass for a change.”
Wes smiled. “Well, I get another chance tomorrow. You aren’t the only one who got a new class.”
“True enough.” Eve smirked as she swung open the door to head down for dinner. “This troll doesn’t know what’s coming for it.”
* * *
The next morning, as with their first job, the four adventurers met up outside the city gates. Just as before, Alex didn’t say much of anything before leading the way east. At least this time they weren’t hungover.
Eve spent most of the journey at speed, running various tests on Charge! for the sake of avoiding another slip up. She found that similar to its predecessor, the skill sent her tumbling if she let it wear off while running too fast or tried to get moving too quickly.
She supposed that’s what Jet was for, but the massive Stamina cost still put her off testing the ability. The last thing she needed was to enter battle with the troll with her most valuable resource depleted.
The improved traction and stability from Surefooted seemed to help, but Eve couldn’t pin down exactly how much. She felt like she was accelerating, decelerating, and turning faster than before, but she had no way of measuring the difference. Perhaps the passive would scale with Endurance too. She certainly hoped so.
Eve put an end to her running as the party reached the first of the hills, deciding it better they stick together as they approached the troll’s den. Wes greeted her on her return.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking. Stronger bones or whatever your passive gives you, I’m not sure punching things at high speed is a great idea.”
“Sure,” she replied. “A spear or some daggers would probably fit better with my class, but we don’t have those, and I definitely can’t afford to buy some.”
“We might not have the optimal weapons, but we do have a weapon.” Wes smiled as he withdrew the rusty sword from his belt. He handed it to her.
“You don’t mean—”
“You need it more than I do, and now you’ve got a class that gives Strength you can actually use the damn thing.”
She admired the old weapon, its runes still colored green from the grass she’d tried to clean it with. “Now we just need to figure out what its enchantments actually do.”
Wes chuckled. “Explode when you break them, most likely. Assuming it is enchanted. For all I know those sigils are someone’s name.”
“Yeah, the guy you stole it from.”
“Hey, the guy Mr. Potts stole it from.”
Eve snorted. “Tell that to the thugs back in Fidswo—”
Alex cut her off with a furiously whispered, “Quiet!”
Eve froze, her grip tightening on the weapon’s hilt as she scurried up the hillside to join Alex. The four adventurers stopped just short of the summit, peeking over the hilltop into the valley below.
Eve swallowed down bile. It wasn’t the hideous, shaggy-furred brown monster nor the collection of old bones scattered about the space which so churned her stomach, but the blood that stained its misshapen chin and the corpse over which it leaned.
Preston retched.
Wes paled. He whispered, “Is that a…”
Alex answered with steel in her voice, “A human, yes. And it’ll be the last one this thing ever kills.”
Eve clenched her fists. “So what’s the play?”
“The play is I’m gonna burn the ever-loving shit out of it.”
“Wes, shouldn’t we—”
The first Fire Dart was already in the air before Eve could finish her warning. Instead, she cursed. “Shit.”
The troll cried out as the attack struck it, singeing some fur but failing to set it alight. Its bloody fangs glimmered in the noonday sun as its roar filled the small valley.
Alex c
harged. Eve followed.
She waited until she crested the hill to activate her skill, allowing the downward slope to aid in her acceleration. Her class-induced velocity pulled her away from the Soldier at her side as she neared the nine-foot monster, leaving Eve with a terrible sense of facing the threat alone.
Wes’s next spell helped assuage the feeling as it set the thing’s hair aflame, forcing the troll to pause as it batted out the flames.
Eve leveled her weapon to skewer the beast.
A guttural bellow assaulted her ears as she drew near.
Her vision narrowed.
The creature raised a meaty arm, ready to swipe at this small but quick attacker.
Eve readied herself to dodge.
It swung.
She stopped short, allowing the thick appendage to pass right in front of her before closing in for the lethal blow.
Or at least that was the plan.
Her foot caught on a stripped bone hidden in the grass, pushing her sure-footedness beyond her skill’s ability to help. The femur rolled beneath her boot as she careened forward.
The troll’s swing struck true.
Pain exploded in Eve’s side as the attack sent her flying. She landed hard on the grassy hillside, luckily avoiding any of the decaying ribs or other pointed bones that may have impaled her. She didn’t feel lucky.
Panic rose as she gulped for air but her lungs refused to cooperate. She planted a palm in the dirt to push herself up, but her arm collapsed beneath her. It bloody hurt. She gasped once more, the panic subsiding as her aching chest allowed a modicum more oxygen than before.
The troll roared.
The earth beneath her trembled as the creature stomped its way over. Eve watched with wide eyes and a pale face as it came. Once more she tried to stand and once more she failed.
The monster approached.
Alex beat it there. With a cry of “healer!” she stood her ground in front of Eve’s prone form, her spear leveled at the encroaching troll.
It swiped. She lunged.
The thing cried out as a red slit appeared on its arm. It recoiled.
Wes launched another Fire Dart, and again the beast stopped to extinguish burning fur. Alex lunged again.
Eve lost track of the battle as Preston finally reached her and Ayla’s piercing light claimed her full attention. The wounds ran deep, and so too did Her forgiveness. It just wasn’t pleasant.
By the time the blinding radiance of Her judgment and Her mercy faded from Eve’s eyes, another light took its place: the azure glow of a notification.
You have defeated Level 13 Hill Troll: +30 exp!
Such a low level? Shit, Eve swore to herself. At least the others probably earned a lot.
The string of curses coming from Preston somewhat confirmed her theory. “Ayla fucking damnit!”
Alex gave him a curious look. “What’s going on?”
Wes’s mouth hung open in awe. “I’ll tell you what’s going on: he just got his class upgrade.”
“And?”
“Take a look.”
Alex froze. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Unwilling to wait any longer for an explanation, Eve pushed herself up to turn towards the youthful healer. With first a gasp and then a hand clamped over her mouth to keep herself from laughing aloud, she Appraised him.
Level 10 Priestess of Ayla
Uncommon Tier 2 Class
Preston met their looks with a beet-red face. “If any of you says a gods-damned word, I swear on Ayla’s bloody tits that I will murder you in your sleep.”
The valley fell quiet. Three adventurers stared at their healer in perfect stillness, the gentle rustling of the grass in the breeze the only sound to reach their ears. Seconds passed.
Preston was the first to break, the corners of his mouth slowly creeping up until his scowl could hold no longer. Alex followed suit.
For the minutes that followed, were any citizen to peek into that particular valley a few hours east of Lynthia, they would find four guild members standing over the corpse of a hill troll laughing like the lunatics they were. Better yet, said onlooker wouldn’t even be surprised at such a scene.
Indeed, for all of history there has never once been an adventuring group worth its salt that didn’t have some amount of lunacy to go around, and neither the gods nor the Stones nor the adventurers themselves would have it any other way.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Practice Makes Perfecter
“AND GO!”
Eve Charged!
Unkempt chestnut strands blew wildly in the wind as she flew across the training yard. She squinted against the assault of the dry summer air, unwilling to falter or slow even as her eyes accumulated a misty sheen. They could water all they wanted; she had a lap to run.
She forced herself to slow as she approached the line in the sand, dropping to only a touch above double her unmodified running speed. She’d done this turn enough in the past two weeks to know Surefooted’s limits, and by Ayla, she was going to push them.
The ball of her foot just barely skidded into the lap marker as she reversed her direction, her velocity hitting zero for a fraction of a second before she shot off back the way she’d come. Eve smiled.
It took a few seconds for the air to blow her hair back out of her face, a fact of the maneuver she’d grown all too frustrated with. She’d have to take a page out of Alex’s book and tie it back. That or cut it off, Eve mused. I’m not just a village girl any more; I don’t need to worry about finding a good husband. Adventurers wore their hair however they damn well pleased.
The idea left a quiet grin on her face as she burst past the starting line, calling “time!” as she decelerated in the space behind it.
Wes grinned as he rattled off the answer, “Five point three six seconds.”
She stared at him. “Honestly, why do you waste time casting spells? Clearly the true purpose of all that Int is so you can be a human sundial.”
“Please, I’m way better than a sundial.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “Anyway, that’s pretty close to a third of my last time.”
“Which means Charge! also triples the speed from your Haste passive.”
She beamed at him. “This is going to get pretty insane pretty quickly.” Eve attempted a bit of quick math in her head before deciding she didn’t need to know the exact ratio. The important discovery was that her Charge! didn’t just set her running speed to a flat figure but would continue to scale as her Endurance grew.
Wes tilted his head. “Quickly is relative. You won’t be getting any faster any time soon unless you actually start leveling up again.”
Or if I start using Jet, Eve thought. She knew from its cost alone the ability must’ve been powerful, but still she hesitated to actually test it. A low max Stamina would only be an excuse for so long.
She shook her head, returning herself to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know. I just need to find another quest milestone and I’ll start rocketing up again.”
“Or,” Wes pushed, “we could start taking harder jobs.”
“No way.”
“Yes way,” he argued. “Eve, these standard jobs are earning enough to pay for rooms and meals and strawberry scones but not much else. The whole point of coming here was to save up to afford tuition at the mage’s college.”
Eve sighed. “Look, I want more money just as much as you do. For hell’s sake, look at me. This blouse used to be white.” She picked at the sickly brown-yellow fabric and its mottled stains of dirt, sweat, and blood. “I need clothes, I need armor, I need weapons that aren’t a rusty old sword, and I know as well as you do that standard difficulty jobs are never gonna pay for that.”
“So you agree? A more dangerous job means more pay, more exp, and a better chance at hitting a milestone.”
“It also means more chance one of us dies. We aren’t in a hurry, and sure, I’m not getting much exp from our current jobs, but you and Preston are. There’s nothing
wrong with racking up a few more levels before trying the risky shit.”
Wes met her stare with a level gaze. “Is this about the troll?”
Eve glared back. “Does it matter? I’m getting as much practice in as I can because I don’t want my fuck up to be the reason one of you gets hurt. There’s no rush. We can always take a bigger job later.”
He nodded. “You’re right. There’s no rush, but we can’t wait forever either. I’m sure I’m not the only one getting a little impatient. Alex has a class promotion coming soon, and I guarantee you she’ll want to do something between now and then.”
“I know, Wes. I know. It just doesn’t have to be now. We can wait a few more weeks to make sure we’re ready before we go charging into some monster-infested ruin.”
Wes shut his eyes as he let out a breath. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” Eve said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “For waiting and for helping me practice.”
He grinned. “You’re very welcome. Now come on, let’s get back to the guild hall. Drinks are on you.”
* * *
“Ayla’s tits, I needed this,” Preston said through a deep exhale as he set down his half-empty tankard. He sat with Eve and Wes at their regular corner table in the adventurer’s guild common room, enjoying a cold ale at the end of a warm day. Alex, as per usual, was absent.
Eve asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Where have you been all this time, anyway? I’ve seen Alex more than you in the last few days.”
Preston flung his head back in a somewhat overdramatic show of aggravation. “Ugh, you have no idea. Apparently becoming an ordained Priestess of Ayla is an entire bloody job of its own. The ceremonies and the rituals and the gods-damned praying just never stops.”
Wes gave the man a gentle look. “Are… um… are you sure you’re cut out to be a priest? I know you take whatever class the Stones give you, but it sounds like you really don’t fit in with Ayla’s lot.”
“Don’t even get me started. Yesterday I had to go through a ritual cleansing. Imagine me, naked as the day I was born, being washed and anointed by a dozen leering old ladies.”
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 11