Legend of the Spellthief

Awaking to a day full of energy, Logan sprung upwards in his bed, a smile adorning his face. It had been so long since anything bad had happened to or near the Spellthief, making this world feel much more homely and inviting than it had previously. No over-arching threats or invasions in sight.

The only part that was a bit unsettling was the sound of bells outside. Opening his window, Logan heard a local town crier talking about the recent events.

“Congress has concluded, the festival of laws will begin in the evening. Go to your nearest inn, tavern, or adventuring halls for a list of all law changes.”

Logan leant on the windowsill as he saw the crier continue down the street, waving his bell and repeating his words. A small crowd was gathered outside the Meek Moat Inn, whispering amongst themselves as they read the board on its wall. A few had to read it aloud for those who hadn’t learned to read, but Logan knew them all already.

Putting on his clothes, Logan went downstairs to see a few new faces talking with the gashriek bartender. Though he could see their scowls and hear their tones a bit harsher towards the non-human.

“How can you spout such nonsense?” one of the men demanded.

“This is insane, the above would never condone this!” a woman shouted.

Moving in front of the crowd, Logan addressed them all, “Now, now. Calm down, people. What seems to be the issue?”

“These rules changes on the inn, they’re absurd. We want them reverted!”

“This establishment has no right to do this to us!”

Logan held up both his hands to simmer the crowd again, “Listen. This inn does not change the laws, it is just a local gathering spot, and so is used to distribute the changes to people who read them.”

“No—”

“If you have issues with the changes, write a letter…” Logan explained for a few minutes, the crowd dispersing as they heard the words of an esteemed hunter.

Eventually, they had all gone, allowing Yetveka some breathing room. “Thank you, Logan. I swear this happens every year, and people still don’t understand.”

“They just want to vent. Not surprising that some people don’t realise how everything works”, Logan replied as he sipped water from a tankard.

“Some of them were quite xenophobic with their words”, Yetveka scoffed.

“That’s quite a late term”, Logan thought to himself. “One step at a time, ‘least there won’t be issues with duels anymore. Well… fewer issues, there’s still going to be lawbreakers.”

“Oh”, Yetveka jumped slightly as if she recalled something, “your name wasn’t on the documents on the board. Did you want to stay anonymous about all that?”

Logan nodded, “The ones who need to know, do. Armin was fine attaching his name to it and keeping me out of it.”

Yetveka mimed the stitching of her lips, “Won’t mention it if they don’t then”, she said with a smile.

Marcus was next to reach the counter from upstairs, “Morning all. Heard a ruckus. Issues?”

“Nothing Logan couldn’t handle”, Yetveka answered with a chuckle.

Logan nodded at Marcus in greeting, a smile on both their faces. Having checked his friend’s status earlier, Logan saw that the Devout had gained close to seven thousand experience during his absence. A healthy dose of training against the elementals and hunter work, the Devout had picked up a gold armband with the “Tp” allowance written on it.

His summons were being put to work too, Celsius, Spark, and Fahrenheit all reaching level 12, hitting the cap once again. Servoir was now level 7 and Umbra 6. Logan was going to have to pick up a skill tome to increase Summon Mastery or wait till he could cast fourth-level spells to increase that level cap further.

“Logan”, Marcus spoke as he clicked his fingers, “you calculating till we fall asleep?”

Logan smirked, he was good with numbers and resources back on Earth, but in Avanar, that skillset was used for something entirely alien.

“Sorry. Work been keeping you busy?”

“That it has. Had an influx of guards calling me by name for work. Helps that I train with them often for word to spread around about my… they called it devotion, but I think that was a joke about my class”, Marcus smiled in acceptance.

The last to come down was Amalia and Evén, the pair chatting before sitting at the counter. “Good morning”, Amalia spoke.

“The busiest bees all return to the nest”, Evén recited.

“That goes to Sincollo I’d think. Been gone for a while now”, Yetveka laughed.

“I suppose. Though I see Gaemo often with our duo work.”

Amalia nudged Evén’s shoulder as they both giggled.

“You two going to the festival tonight?” Logan asked as he turned to both.

“Some niceties to unwind to, no doubt”, Evén answered.

“I helped with some of the metalwork. I should enjoy seeing them put to use”, Amalia added.

“Nice to engage in the local customs too”, Logan admitted.

“Oh right, you’re from the south”, Evén realised, “I’ve been to the festival of laws a few times myself. We can all go around together”, she added with a smile.

“The same is true for me, and Amalia too”, Marcus included.

“I know that much. Already helped her pick out an outfit. You two wear normal clothes anyway”, Evén replied as she pointed at the Spellthief and Devout.

It was true enough. Where other classes wore leather or metal, the casters mostly stuck to cloth and robes. More common attire for everyday life.

Looking around, Logan asked, “No Wriske today?”

“She head to one of the churches to get some aid in her healing, terrible curse she suffered”, Yetveka answered as she began to clear plates.

“Did it get worse?”

“Just routine healing for it, she’ll be fine. If anything, it’s probably best it happened to her”, Yetveka started before making a claw over her heart, “As a high-rank Devout she has a higher chance of stopping it in its tracks.”

“I guess Marta wasn’t high enough”, Logan thought to himself.

Amalia stood as she finished her tankard of water, “Well, the workday calls. See you all later tonight.”

“I suppose the same for me”, Marcus added as he stood.

The rest said their farewells before moving in different directions to run out the day till its joyous end.

Warping to the noble district, Logan was allowed entrance through the gates of the Eventa estate without question. Castore sat atop a shrubbery and jumped off it as he saw the Spellthief approach.

“A fair morning to you, Logan.”

“You’re certainly ready to go”, Logan observed with a smile.

Castore had garbed himself in brown and red leathers from neck to toe. His head was free to the wind, his medium blonde hair brushed back and around his ears. At his hip was a shortsword and dagger, a duel-wielding Fighter. At 5’6”, the kid still had some growing to do, but he was able to look Logan in the eye well enough.

“Are we doing a general assessment first? Like they do at the halls?”

“Yes. Do you have a good size of grass?”

“At the back of the estate, this way”, Castore answered as he led Logan around the side of the large building.

Several servants waved at the passing master and hunter, Castore taking wide lunges in his confident stride.

Reaching the stretch of grassy garden, Logan talked with Castore a bit, hiding the fact he wanted to make a party and search the young man’s status screen. With that confirmed, he was able to pull it up and inspect what nobility awarded.

“Castore Eventa: Fighter 1, 8/8 HP, 0/0 MP.

STR 9, AGI 11, CON 8, INT 12, WIS 8, CHA 9. 6 Bonus Points.

The son of a wealthy merchant noble within the capital city of Gauntlet. Confident and energetic, previous turmoils only dampened his drive to become an adventurer, rather than dashed them entirely. Is well-versed in mercantile endeavours.

Reduction: Damage 5, Elemental 5.

Resistance: Damage 10%, Elemental 10%.

Skills: Combo Slash, Combo Slash 2, Combo Slash 3, Power Strike, Rush.

Wields: Noble’s Shortsword*4 2-5 dmg, Noble’s Dagger*4 2-3 dmg. Wears: Noble’s Leather*4.”

“Where a normal person has a few coppers to their name, this boy has over 2 silver in just his weapons and armour. Not to mention the trinkets he’d have that grant him such reduction and resistance”, Logan thought to himself.

With double the output and defence, Castore would do far better than any other starting-out adventurer. However, he would find it hard to even take damage with the seemingly priceless trinkets he had granting him protection.

However, it seemed his luck wasn’t all great. Out of a possible 72 points for attributes, he only had 57. The minimum was 48, so really it was 9 out of 24. His array also wasn’t amazing for a Fighter either, he’d make a fine Rogue.

Castore did some laps of the garden while Logan pondered over the easy-to-access status.

The boy, soon to be man, had been self-teaching some of the Fighter skills. Most people got assessed with one or two, Castore had five. Logan felt a bit of irate envy at how much was spent to get him this far. The rich get richer kind of affair.

Castore didn’t seem that bad though, he was just using what was available to him. Who was to say he wouldn't share his tomes with his allies if they were Fighters too?

When the laps were completed, the young man approached Logan with a panting breath. “How was that?”

“Good, though you’re a bit short of air there.”

“Blame my father for keeping me cooped up all the time”, Castore replied with a teasing smile.

“Ready to show off your combat prowess?”

“We don’t have a dummy here, but I got these”, Castore mentioned as he handed Logan a few daggers.

“That’ll work”, Logan replied as he took them and got into a defensive stance.

Castore yelled out a battle cry as he began to swing at Logan’s opposite dagger. The clash of metal made a few attendants jump, but quickly realised the assessment had progressed into the next phase.

Sparks flew as the blades collided, though Logan only moved his dagger to intercept. Whenever Castore hit his mark, the Spellthief seemingly moved little if at all from the force of each blow.

Swiping left to right, Logan directed the attacks when needed to keep Castore in a flowing motion.

Dragging out his dagger too, Castore struck with dual blades, Logan mostly using only one to parry each at a time. There were few times when Logan had to use both of his daggers.

“Combo Slash”, Castore chanted.

His shortsword glowed red as it battered Logan’s dagger, the Spellthief could feel an increased tension from the skill.

“Combo Slash 2”, Castore continued as he hit another defending blade with a yellow light. “Combo Slash 3”, the young man intoned as a dash of blue coating the sword hit Logan’s dagger. “Combo Flurry”, he said for a last time as his speed and ferocity increased, slashing out three times to end his trio of skills.

Logan blocked each one but had to use both daggers to do so. The purple glow faded with the last strike, chipping away at the loaned weapons.

Sliding across the grass a bit, Castore twirled the sword into a reverse grip behind his back, a red mist billowing at his shoulders. “Power Strike”, he called out as he made a spinning slash towards the assessor, creating a circle aimed at the sky and the ground.

Twisting his other dagger into a similar grip, Logan defended against the attack, a chip forming in the other loan. Pushing back, he made Castore stumble to the floor, all skilled out and panting.

Inspecting the daggers, Logan saw they had taken quite a beating from the young man. Training implements indeed, weren’t going to hold up long regardless.

Crouching down to Castore, Logan spoke, “Want an initial report, or wait till I write something up?”

“We’re”, Castore began between breaths, “done?”

Logan nodded, “Got all I need.”

“How were my techniques?”

“You’re alright against single targets, but you need to be a bit more unique. That spin at the end was good, but you need to flank more, put the enemy off balance and keep them guessing. Most low-rank monsters won’t know what to do if you threw in kicks, grabs, or side-steps.”

“And multi-targets?”

“You were focused mostly on me, hard to gauge that. Rush will help you move between enemies at least.”

“Anything else?”

“Get some more daggers. You can throw those at afar enemies, or even drop them after an attack to feint an opponent.”

Castore stood with the aid of Logan, “There’s a lot to keep in your head during the heat of battle.”

“You’ll be part of a group, right? They can help pick up the burden.”

Castore chuckled a bit, “Father said if I were to be an adventurer, I should be like the low-rank advocate.”

Logan remembered hearing about that person. A classless who reached rank 8 just by fighting rank 1 monsters. Surprisingly he lived past the 7-day death timer, even more, he reached the second tier for most skills. He was also a solo adventurer.

“I can understand why he’d only want you to do the easiest of quests.”

“I’ll do them to start, sure. But I have grander aspirations.”

“Leading a guild?”

“Leading a—yeah!”

“Just don’t let people take advantage of your upbringing or wealth.”

“Not again”, Castore said under his breath.

“Have you got people in mind already?”

“To be in my party?”

Logan nodded.

“There’s another noble I’m friends with. Other than that, probably ask around at the hall.”

“Well, you got some time before all of that. If it all lines up, you can join my guild to get started”, Logan offered with a smile.

Castore smiled wider, “That will certainly put Father’s mind at ease. I did not know you had a guild, Logan.”

“It’ll be made in around forty days or so.”

“Ah, of course. That’s when the Ice King is meant to rise. A good time as any to drive up recruits.”

“More that I am disallowed to make one until it is shown he won’t revive with any additional effects from my meddling”, Logan thought to himself. “I suppose I should write up your assessment then.”

“Of course. For your aid, Logan”, Castore responded as he held out a tome, a neat leaf drawn onto its cover, “A recipe book for alchemical creations.”

Logan took it politely, “Thank you.”

“You can follow me to a writing room to sort this all out.”

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