Legend of the Spellthief

Logan scanned over the creature atop the cliff. The monster stood around 6’ tall, though its wingspan made it much wider than any other humanoid. Arched wings went a few feet above its head, ending in spikes at the top, then flowed down to taloned ends, claws clenched around the rocks it stood upon.

A beaked face had blood and viscera dripping from it, fully black eyes that looked dead, if not for dashes of red across its face painting it as full from a meal. White, yellow, and grey feathers covered it head to toe, another set of arms where they would appear on a human, and two legs, hands ending in claws and feet in talons.

“Identify”, Logan commanded in his head.

“Harpy - Avian. Level 16: 200/200 HP, - MP.

Avian humanoids that stand over six feet tall, these creatures are the predators of mountains and hilly bluffs. Often touted as demonic, these creatures' intelligence is far above normal monsters, but they have no demon origin to speak of.

Coming in several varieties, some harpies specialise in sleep skills while others take mastery over the skies and the winds within.

Tales speak of cousins to harpies that try and take young adults from their homes via romance and lustful emotion, only to devour them in inappropriate manners.

Skills: Far Sight, Fast Flight, Feather Control, Linguistics, Mimicry, Multi-Grapple, Screech, Sleep Fluff, —.

Reduction: Damage 5.

Resistance: Damage 10%, Earth 25%, Fire 10%, Holy 50%, Ice 75%, Lightning 25%, Shadow 50%, Water 75%, Wind 95%.”

Logan wanted to expand the skills section further but had little time to spend reading past its title card with his four eyes.

The harpy cawed, jumped from its perch, and spread its wings wide. A sonic boom in the clouds ahead made Logan’s mini-map shake, he thought it best to just close it for now.

Swooping down with a grey whirl behind it, the harpy sped towards the pair of adventurers at such speed that it rivalled the Rush of Fighters.

Logan moved into a defensive stance as the harpy drew up its wings to claw at the Spellthief, but instead slashed the air as Logan warped away, his feint guard working.

Apparating with a blast of wind all his own, Logan landed a solid stab into the harpy’s back with his new Bowen dagger and got a good hold of his foe. Planting a hand onto it, he chanted, “Flame Grasp”, igniting the bird for 185 fire Backstab damage combined with his Bowen dagger dealing 36.

Dragging his blade down, Logan brought the newly made unconscious body to the floor. Marcus spun the staff in his hand as he moved it into a reverse grip behind his arm. “Easy enough, ay?”

“We’re not done yet”, Logan replied as he stood.

While no experience numbers rose, the rain began to fall in earnest. Pitter-patter became thuds and rushing as more harpies crested the mountains surrounding the pair.

As they went back-to-back, Marcus patted Logan’s back as he chanted, “Enhance Strength…”

Logan glowed grey three times as both his and Marcus’s Strength, Agility, and Intelligence rose, Wisdom for Marcus.

“Watch for their wing talons, they are grabby”, Logan warned.

“I suppose I’ll let you take the three on the left then”, Marcus laughed as his eyes moved between two on the right side of the inclines.

The harpies cawed and growled at their foes, the clouds swirling high in the sky. Fluttering their wings, they let loose countless feathers into the air as they dashed the rain away. Letting a wide swing of their wings towards the pair of adventurers, the feathers shot at insane speeds to the duo.

Logan grabbed Marcus as they both warped high into the sky before kicking off each other’s boots towards their respective sides.

Logan threw a Bowen dagger at the three harpies who all darted to the side to avoid it. Wiggling his fingers, Logan chanted, “Demon-Clan Spell: Telekinesis”, causing the dagger to vibrate in the air and then dance around as Logan commanded it to slash at his foes as if moved by an invisible ally.

Landing in a slide, Logan threw another dagger as it impaled a dodging harpy, the flying one still cutting at them as it jigged the dancefloor of combat.

The furthest of the three screeched loudly, causing a shockwave to push away both water and knife, Logan’s Telekinesis getting interrupted as ringing erupted in his ears.

Another darted at the caster, taloned wings grappling Logan’s arms and crushing him to his centre. As if it were herculean, Logan was crushed to nothing, though instead of an eruption of blood and sinew, the Spellthief appeared behind the harpy with a blast of wind.

Slashing a blade towards his would-be grappler, Logan’s dagger was met by the hurried wing of his foe. Metal clashed with feathers, as they protected the creature from harm. A solid thud was heard as he hit the defence, pushing off of it to avoid a twirling dervish retaliation.

Sliding across the floor, Logan backflipped over the twin swipes of the other harpy against him. A tall dash of water from the ground hugged Logan’s trousers as the rain got fiercer, sounding like the roars of a pride a thousand-full.

The rain was so harsh it blocked sight like fog, Logan couldn’t see past the part of the mountain he was on. Each rush of water battered his shoulders, but he stood tall against the onslaught, continuing to defend himself from the similar brutish manner of the harpies.

Talons and claws came quickly at the Spellthief, thankful he had his Agility heightened earlier to be able to parry so many sharp attacks as he dual-wielded Bowen daggers from his hip holsters.

Cutting through the rains felt like Logan was wading in a river, the harpies heavy rocks flowing down it.

Warping to his centre yet again, Logan was surprised to see when he appeared that the harpies had copied him, essentially swapping places as their talons gripped his wrists. A flurry of punches landed in Logan’s stomach as the harpies took heavy control of Logan’s form.

Logan spat red into the watery terrain but was washed away as soon as it appeared. Before another blow could be landed, and finding a spot between them to concentrate, Logan warped away again, but this time he only appeared for a second before being wrapped up in shadows and dissipating at the end of an “Invisibility.”

The harpies darted their heads around, and with the heavy rain, were unable to sniff out their quarry. Spreading their arms and wings wide they squawked and sent out a burst of sonic power, creating an area of protection from the rain and making it quieter than the exterior’s harsh climate.

Logan tried to stay still, but the water dripping from his body still hit the floor that had been brushed clean of moisture and dirt, but it hugged around Logan’s unseen form. Black spots appeared on the floor as parts of his body blocked the protective field at his back or under his coat.

The harpies cawed again as they darted towards Logan.

“Haste”, Logan chanted, his still unseen, but known, body increasing its speed ever further.

Leaping at his foes, Logan chanted twice, “Flame Wall”, causing two tall walls of fire and steam to erupt from the floor that blocked off both his foes on his sides.

Darting through one of his walls as his Invisibility ended, Logan stabbed the throat of the left harpy, jumped up with his knife, grabbled its wing and chanted, “Flame Grasp”, igniting the harpy in a flourish of red and orange that quickly became quenched in the rain that followed its death.

Similarly, the final harpy dashed through the wall of fires with inflamed claws. As the cinders followed its strikes, Logan could see it was continuing to mimic his moves. Clever girl.

Dodging, ducking, and side-stepping. Logan was able to foresee the moves with his increased visions from his red vaskt eyes tracking the moves combined with his speed.

Parrying a slash from the wing’s talon, Logan spun around the inside of the feathered appendage, parried its clawed arm, and ended with a double dig into the harpy’s chest with both of his daggers.

The harpy let out a wash of blood as it ran away with the waters, Logan punched its beak closed as he grabbed it and chanted a final time, “Necromantic Second Grasp”, causing his hand to erupt into shadows and rip at the monster’s body, healing Logan as the body hit the floor.

As Logan looked over the bodies around him he mentally accepted the slowing of the rains. Rivers ran down the sides of the cliffs as they splashed down below, several waterfalls cascaded blood and feathers downward.

Swiping a dagger into his hand, Logan tossed it over to the other side of the gap, as its glint faded Logan warped to it in the air and descended with a weapon in hand.

“Nice of you to join me”, Marcus spoke with confidence as he sat atop the body of his two harpies, with one ankle on the other leg’s knee.

“My friends wanted to keep me company”, Logan laughed as he sauntered to his ally.

“They’re both still alive, as you wanted”, Marcus informed as he stood.

Logan crouched to the two bodies, the rains getting fainter still, “Thanks.”

Experience numbers finally started to climb against the rain, signalling the pair’s allowance of lessening tension.

Logan was happy to see the yellow text again, it gave him a sense of normality against his imprisonment. Though, it was a new normality compared to spreadsheets and the like of Earth. Logan gained a total of 3,264, while Marcus gained 2,880.

“We’re all good. Only issue we’ll face is encroaching foes from afar, but we should have time to harvest and return”, Logan informed as he picked up the two bodies.

“I’ll grab the three on the other cliff and bring them down below”, Marcus offered.

The pair warped away at their own wills, teleportation rings fitting almost any adventurer’s finger comfortably.

Logan was told how to take the brains without too much issue, a certain potion he bought ahead of time along with weaving spellforce similar to crafting to preserve them as components for later.

The feathers would be useful for other crafting, but Marcus would be taking those as his half of the payment. Logan used Harvesting on all the components, hoping to increase that skill’s mastery quicker than he had previously.

With the bodies cut up, Logan lit the remains alight. It would hasten their spellforce breakdown and not upset the local wildlife much more than killing them. With a quick round of Clean, Logan also removed any signs of his or Marcus’s presence atop the cliffs.

Warping back to Gauntlet, the pair split up for a short while. Marcus went back to training against Logan’s elementals, while the Spellthief moved to drop off the harpy brains. With a spare brain for himself, Logan got to his crafting.

He couldn’t finish anything today, however, as the items he was making were quite intricate. Combined with his new necklace, he cut the time down by half, but the day had so much in it besides that.

Cleaning himself up, Logan met with Amalia in the front room of the inn for their planned dinner. Leaving and taking a stroll through the streets, the couple landed up at The Restaurant that Logan had investigated previously.

As the large sign with red lettering made it easy to find, this night didn’t see much of a line outside.

Entering, Logan was greeted by a waiter dressed in a black suit and tie just as before. A relatively strange sight outside of royal estates.

Finding a table, the pair sat and conversed as glasses were filled with water.

“Now isn’t this nostalgic”, Amalia chuckled.

“Right? I found it quite a few weeks ago”, Logan informed as he drank the crystal-clear water.

“A lovely sight from home”, Amalia added as she sipped her drink, “I didn’t think I would see a menu like this again”, she continued as she opened a thin booklet.

Ordering their meals, and arriving a bit later than if they had gone to a tavern, the conversation continued.

“Smithing is going well. I have to hide a few creations here and there. Feels like I have to set my own shop up soon to not worry as much about that.”

“You’ve settled in just fine then.”

“Oh, I have. Most people are courteous and kind.”

“Bit of a contrast to my start”, Logan replied with a knowing smile.

“Yeah. I’ve overheard some bullying towards casters when adventurers come to the smith for new arms. Can’t exactly make a fuss about it all while I am working though.”

“There are tossers wherever you go. Be it a pitch or a new world”, Logan mentioned as he leaned back.

The atmosphere of The Restaurant was a mix of whispers and low voices, it wasn’t as boisterous as an inn or tavern. It felt like a family establishment, sans the baby cries, from Earth.

“The number of snot spoons is unreal when it comes to group dynamics.”

Logan laughed, “What kind of insult is that.”

“You’d prefer if I called them smelly boots? C’mon, you still call people tossers and cunts”, Amalia replied with a wide smile.

“True that. Though I suppose both of our mannerisms and slang are weird to people here. Be it from England or Germany.”

Talk filled with reminiscing, jokes, and normal life in Avanar was cut a bit short as Eno appeared, the partnered NPC of the PC Leroy.

“Have we not met before, sir?” Eno asked as he looked at Logan.

Logan held a hand out to shake, “Yes, Eno. I’m Logan. We talked during my research into Oracles.”

Eno took the hand, “Ah, yes, of course. It seems you’ve been well since.”

It was true in a way. Logan’s attire and equipment painted him as much wealthier than before. While Eno, in his 80s, only looked older with each passing week.

“Yes. A lot has happened since.”

“Then I am glad you chose my establishment to decompress. Is the food to your standard?”

Amalia perked up, “Yes it was.”

“Always happy to bring happy smiles and content stomachs to the clientele.”

“Might have to make it a habit to come here”, Logan teased.

Amalia smiled, the meaning behind the words possibly getting mixed or not didn’t matter much. Amalia took it as if going out with her more.

“Thank you. I shall leave you to it”, Eno ended as he attended to other customers.

Finishing up their meals, the pair left The Restaurant and made their way back to the inn. Chatter on the street and nightly sounds complemented the time of peace in Gauntlet.

As Amalia wrapped her arm around Logan’s she let out a tut in frustration.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

“Another quest reminder popped up”, Amalia informed as she peered off to the side.

“Need help with it?”

“Not really. Just arrived at an awkward time.”

“That a fact? All of mine have been combat-orientated. Well, except for the 7-day death timer”, Logan replied wistfully.

“Might be because I do a lot more crafting or just less fighting than you.”

“Could be. My hours spent hunting people are the same you spend at the forge.”

“And many more to come. I need to ‘Shore up Supplies’ for an incoming lack of arms”, Amalia huffed.

“Seems we’ll both be tinkering away then”, Logan replied with a chuckle.

“I suppose so.”

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