“How much would a potion to enhance agility run?” I asked.
“Let me see”, she answered and walked over to a cabinet of drawers against the back wall. She searched through what looked like hundreds of tiny compartments, then looked back to me and said, “I have all of the materials for agility and strength, either of which I would normally charge fifteen gold pieces for. At cost I can offer you one at ten gold.”
“Ouch,” I said. “I think I’ll stick with the healing potions. Do you have something that refreshes stamina?”
She chuckled and shook her head, “You want Adrenaline potions. Those are the most popular potion in my catalog, so much so I only deal with them as direct orders. When I used to put them in the main shop, they would sell out pretty much immediately."
"The last time I had them freely available there was a three way brawl that almost ended up with my shop in flames."
She sighed and shrugged. "If I had the materials, I would make them for you, but right now I am out. If you can get your hands on some mandrake root and sugar cane, I would be happy to brew them for you for a small fee.”
Making a mental note to keep my eyes out for those herbs, I replied, “I’ll keep my eyes peeled and remember your offer. For now, I think I will take two of your moderate healing potions, and one of your moderate rejuvenation potions.”
“That’ll be two gold and seven silver,” she said, handing me the vials.
I did some quick math and realized that something was off. The game was applying the discount to the entire order instead just the first two potions.
I took a screenshot and filed another bug report, then cancelled the transaction and bought the two healing potions with the discount, and then started a second transaction for the full priced rejuvenation potions at fourteen silver. It was only a five silver difference, but with a bigger order the bug could add up.
*** System Alert: A player has completed your quest Poetic Justice! You receive 5xp! ***
People really seemed to like that quest. I’d have to try my hand at something meatier at some point, if the system stayed in place. I still had yet to hear anything back regarding any of my bug reports, though, so who knew how long a beta system would stick around.
“Could you tell me where I could find an instructor for combat skills?” I asked the alchemist.
She tucked the coins into her pockets as she responded, “The mercenaries guild house would be your best bet, or maybe the arena? Both should have instructors that should be able to help you out for a small fee.”
Two notifications appeared under my mini map and a quick glance at the enlarged version showed the locations of both locations.
Deciding on a course of action, I thanked the alchemist and headed towards the mercenary’s guild to see about improving my endurance.
…
By the time I arrived at the guild house, the sun had set and the streets were lit by lanterns of some sort which gave off a soft, yet effective light.
The compound was surrounded by a tall wooden wall, the single visible entrance flanked with a pair of guard towers. A pair of human guards stood guard to either side of the gate, and I could see a pair of archers stationed in the towers as well. I was impressed.
As I approached the gate, the guards crossed their halberds across the path, barring my way. In addition to their polearms, each of the guards was equipped with medieval European style iron breastplates with a tabard bearing the image of a crossed sword and axe.
The guard standing to my right had a small silver star embroidered over his heart, most likely indicative of his rank. A quick scan with confirmed my guess.
*** Mercenary Guard, Level 5
*** HP:100 %, SP: 100% ***
*** Mercenary Sergeant, Level 8
*** HP:100 %, SP: 100% ***
The Sergeant spoke, “Halt! State your business with the Mercenary Guild of Tael’va.”
Stopping a respectful distance from the guard I responded, “Good day Sergeant, I was directed here by the owner of the Crimson Vial when I asked about a good place to acquire martial training.”
“Name, Rank, and Affiliation,” he continued.
“Kheph Sa’tep, Acolyte of Anpu,” I responded.
He tensed slightly, but his voice never wavered. “Welcome to the Mercenaries Guild, Acolyte,” the Sergeant continued. “Our instructors can be found in the training hall to the right. As you are not a member of the guild, I must inform you that training will incur a fee. Have a nice evening.”
The guards stepped back and uncrossed their weapons, allowing me to proceed. I could feel the other guard’s eyes on me as I walked past and headed towards the long, single story building to the right of the gate.
From within the hall I could hear the ringing of steel on steel and the voices of various instructors and commanders directing the activities taking place.
The main entrance led to a small room with a large desk, behind which sat an older man, his grizzled features showing evidence of a hard life under the Saa sun.
His attention was currently focused on something through another set of doors and he seemed to be constantly shifting in discomfort.
*** Discerning Eye check successful! ***
*** First Aid check successful! ***
Under the desk I caught a glimpse of a bandage poking out from the cuff of the guard’s pants. Its edges were crusted with a sickly looking substance and I could see the flesh near the bandage was red and enflamed.
My First Aid skill, and just general real world knowledge let me know that that was a bad sign. It was no wonder he was constantly shifting about.
*** Unknown Mercenary Veteran, Level 10 ***
*** HP: 50%, SP: 30% ***
*** Status: Festering Wound. ***
He turned away from whatever he was watching and sized me up. As I got closer, I could see a slight flushing of his skin that told me the poor man was burning up.
“How can we help you, good sir?” He began, putting on a cordial mask. “Come to seek training at the hands of the skilled instructors of the Mercenary Guild of Tael’va?”
I answered, wondering why someone obviously ill was here and not in the infirmary, “Uh, Yes, I’m looking for a teacher to show me how to improve my endurance in combat, and possibly how to wield my spear to better effect, if time allows. But that can wait, I can see that you are injured…”
He interrupted me and continued on his spiel, changing the subject and ignoring my concern. “Endurance! Yes, that is a critical skill to know, especially here in this gods-forsaken place.”
I raised my eyebrows at that, but the man seemed oblivious to the symbols plainly displayed on my shield as he continued, “And our arms instructors are second to none, I’m certain they can show you a thing or two that would improve your spear technique.”
Fidgeting again into a more comfortable position, he continued, “Let me get your information and fees and we can get you started.”
Flipping through a large ledger until he came to a mostly blank page, he said, “Name, Rank, and Affiliation please?”
I sighed and responded, “Kheph Sa’tep, Acolyte of Anpu. I can tend that wound for you if you would…”
Again, he interrupted, writing my information in the ledger, and holding out his hand. “That will be four gold pieces for two sessions of training with our instructors.”
I handed over the gold and opened my mouth to bring up the wounds again but the glare he gave me stopped me in my tracks.
He pointed to the door and said, “Speak to Instructor Aku’a and tell her that Balin says you are paid up for two sessions."
“Sir, you’re obviously in pain, if I could only-” I began, but he interrupted once again, this time a lot less polite.
“If I needed help, Sir, I would ask for it. Now please, make your way inside or I will be forced to ask you to leave,” he continued, each word bitten off angrily.
Shaking my head, I left the entryway and he
aded into the training area as instructed.
The hall was broken up into several fenced in fields, each set up for a different sort of training.
One was a sort of obstacle course, another had a set of wooden training dummies and racks of various types of weapons, and another held an archery range.
Scattered around the hall, gathered at the fences, were several groups of unarmored people speaking amongst themselves.
A shout drew my attention to one of the training areas. Two small groups faced off against each other across a simulated bridge.
Each group had three shieldmen forming a line with a rank of spearmen behind. Each group also had a pair of archers bringing up the rear.
Standing close to the center of the group, near the edge of the field was an older man who was shouting commands to both groups, pointing out gaps in their line or other mistakes as they made them.
With a shout, one of the groups charged forward and crashed into the opposing force, blunted wooden swords rising and falling and blunt spears stabbing through the gaps as the organized formations degenerated into a medieval mosh pit.
An archer standing in the back took a blunted arrow to his chest, saluted his killer, and then collapsed “dead" to the ground.
At the end of the scrum, most of the shield men were down and the side with both archers in play managed to win the day, “eliminating” their foes and taking control of the bridge from their opponents.
The instructor called an end to the exercise and all of the warriors started helping each other to their feet. One of the shield men from the winning side was having trouble standing, wobbling as his teammates helped him up before collapsing again to the ground.
A warrior nearby called for the instructor who rushed over and helped remove the downed man’s helm as he called out, “Medic!”
One of the people gathered around the fences rushed from the room to get help while everyone else rushed towards the injured warrior. I followed behind and I tried to scan the downed warrior but couldn’t get a read through all of the people.
Seconds later an older man rushed into the area wearing a pure white tabard with the modern snakes and staff Asclepios symbol.
The crowd parted before the man as he rushed over. He knelt down next to the wounded man and yelled for quiet.
The gathered warriors went silent instantly and drew back from their downed comrade, finally giving me the line of sight needed to examine him.
*** Mercenary Recruit, Level 2 ***
*** HP: 1%, SP: 0% ***
*** Status: Incapacitated, Bleeding, Critically Wounded. ***
The older man pulled out bandages and a motley collection of medical tools from his back and then pressed his hand against something.
I saw healing potions ready nearby but from what I could tell you couldn’t use them while incapacitated, they actually had to be ingested to work.
I got a clear view of the instructor as well and made a note of the three golden knots marking him as a captain on his tabard.
With the other recruits backing off, I was able to make my way close enough to hear the medic talking to the instructor.
“He’s bleeding inside and needs surgery, but time may not be on his side. He is in a critical state and may not survive for long enough for me to do what I need to do to save him," the medic said.
“What do you want me to do sir?”
The captain looked down at the injured recruit and said, “Do what you can to save him Alfred, the boy has a lot of promise and it would be a hell of a waste to lose him to a damned training exercise. What do you need?”
The medic began rattling off instructions while I continued to press my way through the gathered recruits, finally getting fed up with it and yelling, “Out of my way!”
*** Presence check successful! ***
The recruits around me all backed away and I finally had a clear path to the injured man. I moved through the crowd, dropped my pack, shield and spear to the dirt and knelt next to the fallen man.
“Who the hell do you think you are, ordering my men around!” the captain shouted, drawing his sword.
I ignored him and spoke to the medic, “Where is the bleeding?”
“His rib is broken and has pierced something within, I cannot tell what was damaged until I can perform the surgery. I need to…” he answered but was interrupted by another shout from the instructor.
I felt a blade pressed against my back and glanced back at one of the other instructors, a Quetzl woman, her eyes saying quite clearly that she was ready to add me to the death toll if I failed to answer.
I focused on the captain and, ignoring the blade in my back, replied calmly, “I am the man trying to help save your recruit, Captain,” feeling a light rise inside of me.
*** Presence check successful! ***
The captain put up his sword and motioned to the Quetzl behind me. I felt a tiny dig and then the blade was gone.
I turned back to the medic and said, “Thank you, Alfred. May I have your permission to heal your patient?”
He looked at me and nodded, and I began to cast Soothing Touch. As the glow began to gather around my hands, I heard several gasps from the gathered recruits. I placed my hands on either side of where Alfred was holding, and willed the magic to first repair the rib, and then undo the other damage.
*** You cast Soothing Touch and heal the Mercenary Recruit .***
*** You channel Soothing Touch and the Mercenary Recruit. ***
*** Mercenary recruit’s rib has been repaired. ***
“The rib is healed, now let’s get that bleeding under control,” I said to myself, focusing on directing the magic to the torn organs.
*** You channel Soothing Touch and critically heal the Mercenary Recruit ***
*** Congratulations! You have gained a better understanding of the Soothing Touch spell! Rank 3 Achieved! ***
*** Congratulations! You have become more proficient with First Aid! First Aid increased to 2! ***
*** You channel Soothing Touch and the Mercenary Recruit. ***
*** Mercenary Recruit is no longer bleeding. ***
“Okay, the bleeding has stopped, but the organs are still damaged,” I continued, allowing the mana to flow through me and into the spell, mending the tears that I could sense.
I could feel my mana getting low and was confused. Normally this spell wasn’t that much of a drain, but now that I was paying more attention I could feel the extra energy needed to direct the healing instead of just letting it do its own thing.
With the critical wounds handled via the directed spell, I relaxed my control and let the energy find its own course.
*** You channel Soothing Touch and the Mercenary Recruit. ***
*** You channel Soothing Touch and the Mercenary Recruit. ***
I released the spell, and sat back, gasping a little from the expenditure and taking stock of my own pools.
*** HP: 100%, MP: 1%, SP: 5% ***
It seemed guided healing was a drain on the stamina pool as well. I guess it made sense. I was in essence actively using the first aid skill to guide the magic.
I took a deep breath and looked up at the mercenary captain. “The bleeding has stopped, and his ribs and organs are whole. I didn’t heal his bruises and sore muscles though, I figured you would want those to stick around as a learning tool.”
“Thank you, Priest.” Alfred said. “I can do much with my knowledge and experience, but time is the enemy in this type of situation, and I am happy that you were here when it was needed.”
The recruit started coming around, groaning in pain. The captain snapped out orders to the remaining recruits and they helped him regain his feet and escorted him from the room, leaving me alone with the captain, the medic, and a collection of what I assumed were other instructors.
The instructors surrounded me, looking angry for some reason. I was pretty confused as I had just saved the life of one of their own, but they all looked like I had taken a dump in th
eir cornflakes.
I began to speak but was cut off by the captain, who growled, “We told your masters that we were not interested in their arrangement, so you come here for what? To press the issue, make our recruits think they need your ilk to survive? Manipulative bastards, I should send your head back to the temple as a message.”
I raised my hand. “Woah…. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”
“Priest, do not lie to me. You come here, perform your magic healing and then try and claim otherwise?” He continued, somehow getting even angrier.
“Let me kill him, Captain,” the Quetzl woman begged. “I will show this Saa the price of crossing the guild.”
I was getting pissed as well. I had come here for training, and when shit hit the fan and their guy was near death, I stepped up and helped, and all I got was vitriol because once again, some NPC group had beef with my race and class. Damn, this race needed a fucking disclaimer in character creation or something.
“Listen,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I am not affiliated with any temple here in Tael’va. I am not looking to extort you, take your money, or anything else. I came here because I needed training, and Sara at the Crimson Vial suggested that you might be able to help.”
“I am Kheph Sa’tep, Acolyte of Anpu, Lord of the Underworld. I registered with your surly friend Balin out there at the desk, who, by the way should probably talk to Alfred here as his leg is gangrenous.”
Alfred cursed and I turned to address him. “Every time I tried to bring it up he ignored me and changed the subject. If you need help purifying the wound, I offer that help as well, freely given without obligation."
Turning back to the captain with a obvious strain in my voice. "But first, I want the damn training I paid for.”
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