Viridian Gate Online: Embers of Rebellion: A litRPG Adventure (The Firebrand Series Book 2)

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Viridian Gate Online: Embers of Rebellion: A litRPG Adventure (The Firebrand Series Book 2) Page 10

by J D Astra


  Skill Type/Level: Active Concentration/Level 1

  Cost: Concentration, 100%. Spirit, 100.

  Range: 10 meters

  Cast Time: N/A

  Cooldown: N/A

  Price to upgrade to Level 2: 100 Pyro points

  Effect 1: Control the temperature of any flame in a 10-meter radius by using all your concentration. You cannot cast spells, move, or speak while 100% of your concentration is being used.

  <<<>>>

  “So, why’re ye havin’ a Blacksmith teach ye this?” Lenny’s question pulled me from the menus and I looked back at the dimming forge fires. It required concentration to maintain, so that’s what they meant.

  “I didn’t get a lot of time with my trainer, Naitee,” I said with a grimace.

  Lenny nodded, his tone sad as he murmured, “So she’s passed. I’m sorry.”

  “No, uh...” I paused as I remembered the last thing I said to her, and the last thing I did. “I punched her.”

  “Ah,” he said with amusement.

  “But that’s not why I didn’t get much time with her,” I said to set the record straight. “I didn’t get to train with her because I’m on a very important quest to stop the Ever Victorious Empire from taking over Eldgard. It required I leave to come here, to the Grand Archive, for more information.”

  “Hmm.” He hummed with amusement. “Sounds like excuses! Let’s get to work!” He roared with laughter and returned to the anvil to get his weird gloves. They only had three-quarter fingers for the middle and ring fingers, and a single patch in the middle of the palm. They were held together with string and straps.

  “It’s ma’hammar glove, lass,” Lenny said as he pulled his thick fingers through.

  I returned my attention to the forge. I was sure there’d be plenty of time to figure out every tool and how to use them...

  In the next.

  Eleven.

  Hours.

  Pyro Master

  MORNING BROKE, 5 AM. I was giddy and excited. Sure, I’d nearly starved to death the day before, but today, I was up early and ready to eat. When I’d finally finished an intense day’s work with Lenny the day before, I’d crawled back to the room and gone straight to bed. Otto had brought me a meal and I’d nearly taken a bite of his hand just to get at it faster.

  No, today I was ready. And what I was ready for, was Thermosis Level 2. I had earned 73 Pyro points yesterday with my hard work, and I only needed 27 more to get to level 2. I opened up the menu and looked at my new kick-ass ability.

  Each mastery went up to level ten, at which point a Firebrand could use the skill without much concentration or Spirit at all. The description for level 2 also mentioned I would get a range increase, and it seemed the farther down the mastery tree I got, the more cool stuff I would unlock along with it.

  The amount of Pyro points to level up each mastery stayed the same, but with the rate I was earning them, it was going to get harder. It would be a long haul, but being able to control the fire’s shape, movement, size, and temperature all at the same time would be so worth it.

  I hopped on cold feet to the wardrobe and exchanged my Initiate’s Robe, aka my sleeping gown, for Wildfire. It had been covered in black soot and burned through to the skin in some places when I’d put it in last night. This morning it was sparkling clean and beautiful. I rubbed my hands down my body and took a deep breath through my nose.

  “What are you so happy about?” Tabor grumbled.

  I grinned as I said, “I really like working in the forge.”

  “Yes,” Renzik said with excitement in his voice, “I am very much enjoying Alchemy. Potions for this, and that, and everything!” There was a gleam of joy in his eyes. I wondered how long it had been since he’d done a hard day’s work that he hadn’t been forced to do.

  Not only that, but he’d gotten some good grooming in at the baths the previous night. He’d cut his hair down short, and it was slicked back. His white streak was now just a tiny accent in his well-maintained features. He was looking and acting like a free man.

  “Well, good for you,” Tabor said with annoyance. “How about you, Otto, you love your work too?”

  “It’s acceptable while we wait,” he said as he riffled through the wardrobe for his gear.

  “Do you want to trade me?” Tabor asked with a hint of hope.

  Otto stopped short, his brow wrinkled and his eyes huge. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a child,” he finally said before returning to strapping his gear on.

  “It’s easy!” Tabor jumped to his feet and patted Otto on the shoulder. “Come on, Otto, all you have to do is make sure they don’t kill themselves.”

  “I’ll stick to excavating tunnels.” Otto pulled on his leather jerkin until it was squared with his chest. He looked strange in such form-fitting clothing, but I supposed it helped with mobility.

  “Let us be off for breakfast.” Renzik slapped Tabor on the back as he moved to the door.

  We walked with a spring in our step, all except Tabor, as we made our way through the halls to the Great Room and down the northeast tunnel to the mess hall. It was exactly what I was expecting: a middle school cafeteria. Except it was underground and full of adults dressed in medieval armor or leathers, with swords and axes strapped to their backs, or shovels perched on the side of the table.

  Directly to the right of the door was a line to queue up in for a small selection of food items available at the counter between the rows of seats and the kitchen. Some of the seats were the same white roots that ran the length of the Great Room, and the tables were picnic-style seats. There looked to be about forty tables total, ten rows of four, probably capable of seating about two hundred people.

  Though the room was not full by any stretch, animated chatter bounced off the narrow dirt walls. These people were happy with their lives, it seemed. It was nice to see so many people in such a situation with so much joy. Risi, Hvitalfar, Wode, Svartalfar, and a few Dokkalfar smiled and ate without a care.

  A thin layer of smoky mist snaked across the low ceiling from the kitchen. It smelled divine. I quickened my steps to get in line behind Otto. My stomach gave a huge growl, and he turned to look at me with a crease in his forehead.

  “You better get in front of me,” Otto said as he moved aside. “I don’t want to lose my leg.”

  I curtsied and passed him in line before saying, “What a gentleman.”

  We moved down the cafeteria line quickly, and when I reached the front I realized why. There were six workers behind the counter passing the bowls of Quarry Grub down the line, filling them up with everything the customer asked for. It reminded me of my favorite burrito place back IRL. Ugh, I missed burritos.

  When I’d loaded up my bowl with grub and grabbed a cup of the fresh spring water, I turned to the room and instantly felt a childlike sense of dread in my stomach. This was just like school, or Osmark Tech. Which table could I sit at? Which table had the cool people? Otto gave me an elbow nudge as he moved toward the seats. He took a spot with three other open seats and plopped himself down. The people at the table looked up, gave him a nod and a smile, sometimes a “Morning,” and returned to their meal.

  “Are you feeling alright?” Renzik asked as he stepped up beside me with his tray.

  “Yeah, I’m just fine.” I smirked as I walked toward our spot.

  “Glad someone is,” Tabor said with a groan as he came up behind me. “I don’t want to babysit. I was made for lifting heavy things, not delicate things. Please, Abby,” he begged as we set our food down. “You’re a woman, don’t you want to trade me?”

  “You have made a grievous error,” Otto said, his cheek full of Quarry Grub.

  I chuckled, my good mood impenetrable, and took my seat next to Renzik and Otto. “I won’t char his behind”—I looked to Tabor with a menacing grin—“this time.”

  Tabor sat, defeated, and we devoured our grub. Five minutes later, we were parting ways at the Great Room and off to our daily chores. I
walked with a quick pace, giving a nod and smile to everyone I passed. A few would smile back, but others seemed uninterested in my morning greeting.

  “Ah, yer early!” Lenny came to the door and shook my hand. “I’ve dug up some temperamental armor that requires yer touch.”

  “Let’s get to work,” I said with a grin.

  We set to heating the forge while Logan, Lenny’s part-time assistant, ran back and forth between us and the armory. Logan was a cute little bugger, couldn’t have been more than ten, with manners that sparkled like polished glass. “Yes, ma’am” this, and “Right away, miss” that. I’d told Lenny he was raising a fine boy when he roared with laughter.

  “He’s not me boy, just an orphan,” he said as he hammered down on pauldrons with wicked black spikes one last time. “That should do it.” He dropped the armor in the “done” pile we’d accumulated over the last few hours. Logan was quick, but he could only carry a few pieces of armor at a time. It seemed that children’s inventories were smaller, and they had lower weight capacities than adults.

  “I’m sorry to hear. It’s nice of you to be teaching him valuable skills.”

  Lenny waved me off. “It’s all’re jobs to raise the young’ns. Once they’re eight years they’re too old for schoolin’, so they come to help the rest of us with our professions. Logan had an aptitude for misbehavior, so they sent ’im to me.” He grinned as he moved toward the workbench and opened a cabinet.

  He removed a large sack from the bottom shelf and motioned for me to join him at the bench. I wiped the sweat from my brow and dropped down to the proffered chair. He flopped down next to me and dug his arm around in the sack.

  “Here,” he said as he handed me a skin of some liquid. “There’s horns in’ere somewhere.” A few seconds later he produced two small cups that appeared to be made of antler, or bone, and a smaller sack.

  “You like meat, Miss Abby?” he asked as he untied the satchel with one hand and passed me the glasses with the other. I nodded as I accepted the cups. “Grand,” he said with a smile. “Pour us some wine, would ye?”

  I pulled the cork from the skin with a thhupop and took a whiff. It smelled of blackberries and apples, with just a hint of smoke. I balanced the cups between my legs and dropped a few ounces of the liquid in each. Given where Lenny had it stashed, I assumed it was rare and expensive, so better to use just a little.

  “Here ye go,” he said as he passed me a hunk of some kind of dried meat.

  I passed him his drink in return. “Thank you.”

  “Cheers. To gettin’ through this backlog of broken junk and makin’ sumpthin of it.” We beat our glasses together and I took a tiny swig of the liquid inside.

  It was as sweet as mead, but rich, and deep, with a thickness that neither mead nor beer had. I swallowed after a moment of letting the fruity wine sit in my mouth, and it burned a tad on the way down. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth at the back, and I slapped it around as I continued to savor the flavors.

  “Good, eh?” Lenny said as he ripped off a chunk of his jerky.

  “It’s excellent.” I took another sip, and a notification appeared in my vision.

  <<<>>>

  Buff Added

  Svartalfar’s Delight: You’ve tasted the sweet winter berries of the north mashed with three times filtered liquor. Restore 3 Spirit every second for twenty minutes.

  <<<>>>

  I dismissed the alert and tore a bit of the tender jerky off for myself. It was salty, and sweet, with the same blackberry notes as the wine. The meat was still moist, which was surprising considering how long it’d probably been in that sack. I ground the meat back and forth until it was pulverized, and swallowed it too. A notification for Mulberry Venison appeared, letting me know I would restore 5 Stamina per second for the next twenty minutes.

  We chewed in relative silence, Lenny quite a bit faster than me, and listened to the forge crackle. My eyes flicked in a compulsory way to the countdown in the corner of my vision. No. I shut my eyes and breathed through my nose. I wasn’t going to think about that quest right now because there was nothing I could do about it. I was here, with Lenny, drinking wine and working on my Pyrokinesis.

  “Welp,” Lenny said as he clapped his hands, “break’s over. Let’s get back to it!” He scooted to the edge of the seat and hopped down, then set about putting everything away in the satchel. I finished my wine, though I really wanted to savor the last few gulps, and wiped the cup out with the sleeve of Wildfire.

  We returned to the forge and within a few minutes I finally hit enough points for Thermosis Mastery Level 2. I opened the menu, tabbed over to the abilities, and dropped all 100 Pyro points in Thermosis.

  <<<>>>

  Thermosis

  The heat of the flame is yours to command. Glow bright white, burn blistering blue, or smolder a deep red, it’s all up to you.

  Skill Type/Level: Active Concentration/Level 2

  Cost: Concentration, 80%. Spirit, 100.

  Range: 15 meters

  Cast Time: N/A

  Cooldown: N/A

  Price to upgrade to Level 3: 100 Pyro points

  Effect 1: Control the temperature of any flame in a 15-meter radius by using most of your concentration. You cannot cast spells or speak while 80% of your concentration is being used.

  <<<>>>

  Pyro points were getting harder and harder to come by, but at least the cost didn’t increase. When I’d first started I was blazing through them, getting a few a minute, but now I was down to earning one point every eight minutes of concentration. Perhaps I needed to take on more challenging tasks to earn more points...

  By 4 PM we’d repaired every piece of armor, sword, axe head, and hammer in the armory that needed repairing, so Lenny opened the portal at the back and we helped Logan get all of the gear back to its rightful place.

  “Arcona’s gonna be real pleased with you, lass.” Lenny patted me on the shoulder as we stowed the final item.

  “Glad I could be of service to her,” I grumbled, remembering how long she was making us wait.

  “Ah, don’t let ’er manners getcha down,” Lenny said dismissively. “She’s a grand woman, just rough around the edges. Why don’t ye take off a mite early, eh? That’ll set ye right for the big meeting tonight.” Lenny said it in a funny, very businesslike voice.

  “Then I’ll take my leave, Sir Leonard, Master of the Forge.” I deepened my voice to mimic his, and gave a bow.

  Logan ran toward me, arms open for a hug, and I couldn’t help but indulge him. I knelt down and wrapped my arms tight around his back as I pulled him up into the air. I spun and spun until his legs were flying and his giggles filled the room, then dropped down again and released him.

  He pecked me on the cheek. “Bye, Abby! I hope to see you again soon.”

  “You too, Logan. Keep up the good work,” I said as I wiped a smudge of ash from his face.

  I started off to the mess hall, but realized, much to my dismay, that I would be eating with Arcona, and not for another hour or two. My stomach rumbled and I patted it gently as I redirected toward the baths. Communal or no, I didn’t want to be sweaty and stinky for the conversation tonight.

  When I got to the baths, I was surprised to see they were empty. I checked the game time: 4:25 PM. Most work shifts didn’t end until 5 PM, so I might have the whole bath to myself for another half hour. I stripped down to my bikini underwear and jumped into the sulfurous pond.

  Oh gods yes.

  I slouched down into the water, careful not to get my hair wet, and let my muscles relax. There were neat little neck crevasses around the edges of the pool, and I slotted myself into one, allowing my whole body to drift as my weight gently tugged on my spine. A few crackles and pops later, I felt better than I ever had after a chiropractor visit back IRL.

  Damn, rebel life wasn’t too bad.

  At 4:45, a pair of Hvitalfar arrived, and I excused myself. I rinsed off in the cold river water, shivering as I s
queezed the egg-smelling liquid from the garments I’d kept on. They’d have to go in the wardrobe tonight.

  I walked with a spring in my step and a smile on my face back to the bunks, catching an exhausted Tabor on his way to the bath. He had a chunky substance on his chestpiece, vomit was my best guess, and a weary look in his eyes.

  “How were the kiddos, Tabor?” I said with a toothy grin as we passed each other in the hall.

  “You’ll get yours,” he said, his voice loaded with defeat.

  I chuckled, the Hot Spring buff keeping my Stamina high as I power walked back to the room. I wanted to lie down and check out the Pyrokinesis tree more. It was only five masteries, sure, but there was so much there. I wanted to look in the forums too, but thought about my promise to Jack, that I would be “offline,” and decided against it.

  I dropped off everything in the wardrobe and put on my spare gown before hopping onto my bottom bunk. The bed was a welcome comfort, and though it was harder than the beds in the Boar’s Head inn, it was easy to relax on after a hard day of mental work and some physical labor. I closed my eyes, thinking I’d just relax for a moment, and when I opened them again, Otto was walking through the door with Tabor and Renzik, all smelling mildly sulfurous.

  “You’re here early,” Otto remarked as he started dropping his gear into the wardrobe.

  I sat up and checked the time, a quarter to six, and then yawned. “Yeah, Lenny let me go early because we fixed all the gear and weapons.”

  “All?” Tabor asked incredulously.

  “Yep, we cranked away at them. Having a Firebrand in the forge is helpful, even if she’s a woman.” I stressed the word.

  “I won’t say another thing,” Tabor said with his hands raised in surrender.

  Otto leaned in to Tabor, whispering, “I made that mistake first time we met. I’m sure she won’t let me live it down.”

  I lay back down on the bed and recalled the moment that seemed so long since past. “He was getting beat to death by a few little Goblins and I went in to save his hide.”

  “It was thirteen Heckling Goblins, a wolf rider, and a shaman, not just a few little Goblins,” Otto retorted.

 

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