Luca DR
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Edge of apocalypse 94
🕑 Added 2023-07-23 13:41:17 +0000 UTC94 – A good person
Albert reached the thin, but sturdy walls of the city right as the last vestiges of daylight died, gaining entry in the nick of time before the gates were closed for the night, after which he would have had to actually talk to the guards to gain entry.
He had gotten rid of his military gear before approaching, putting it into his inventory. Not that his normal clothes blended in any peaceful way with what folks wore around town, but the guards didn’t seem to mind. The reason why they didn’t ask questions was soon revealed, when on his way to search for an inn Albert managed to locate the adventurer’s guild.
There, adventurers clad in all sorts of strange clothes and armor hung around, drinking and eating and chatting merrily outside the tavern-like building. The mismatch of styles, of form over function and vice versa, as well as the heterogeneity of the adventurers was astounding. They were all human, however, with various skin colorations ranging from ashen grey to olive green.
So far, the town was exactly how he expected it to be. Medieval (the correct style was actually renaissance, rather than Middle Ages), dirty, militarized and with most people disappearing into the safety of their homes as soon as night came. There were fields surrounding it like a ring, and walls protecting the houses inside. Neither the walls nor the city were impressively large by any means, and the adventurers all seemed laid back and relaxed.
The classic starter area.
The guild was half-empty inside. By the time Albert managed to gain his bearings, most of the crowd outside had dispersed to either go back to their rooms, or to go drink at the bar. Some were sitting with their teams, sipping lukewarm ale and discussing strategies and monsters, their faces half lit by the flickering light of candles and the occasional magic light.
“Hello, I would like a room.” Albert said.
The rough, towering man at the bar nodded. “Sure.” He said as he cleaned a large wooden cup. “Single rooms are expensive though. Very. We don’t have many, you see. 1 gold token a night. You might want to rent a bunk in the common room, we offer discounts for low rankers like you.”
Gold tokens. Interesting, there was a quest from a long time ago that mentioned them.
“I’m not an adventurer, actually. I plan to become one tomorrow, if possible.”
“Huh.” The man said. “You will have to talk to the master. It’s fine, you can stay the night. But only one, then you will need to register as an adventurer.”
“Okay, thanks. Can I pay tomorrow morning?”
“You are weird.” The man said, squinting. “Still, you are more polite than most. Say what, if you also buy breakfast, I’ll let you pay tomorrow. But you gotta pay. Trust me.”
“Don’t worry, I will pay.” Albert said. “Thank you.”
The room was small, cramped, and the bed was hard. To someone used to the comfort and almost-opulence of the Lair, it was quite a step-down. Still, it was better than nothing. Before sleeping, Albert had two things to do: he needed to complete the old quest and he wanted to try and meditate to convert some of his stash of crystals into mana.
Completing the quest was very easy for someone with his level of control over magic.
Quest: Unlimited Power! Complete!
· Create an offensive skill. Bonus reward if it’s lightning from your fingers.
· Reward: 3 Gold Tokens.
He knew what lightning was as a physical process, he knew how to control and direct mana, and with the aid of Analysis Mode he had the skill ready in less than an hour.
[Electricity] Chain Lightning 1
· Summon a beam of electricity to strike multiple targets.
Compared to what it took him to make a fireball, back in the early days, creating this skill was child’s play. A true testament to how far Albert had gotten, to the point he managed to create a skill from scratch, unlock an affinity (it was a humble D), and not burn the room in the process.
The tokens appeared in his hand, and were swiftly stored.
The other matter was the XP.
The system Albert developed required meditation to absorb mana, just like in a cultivation novel. It was slightly bothersome in hindsight, but he was still convinced that in the long run it would give greater benefits than any other leveling strategy.
Albert closed his eyes. Mana swirled. Little droplets gathered, moving about and around. They hovered, crossing over from his mana pool into this other place around his heart. And when his mana pool was empty, Albert took out 5 hours’ worth of stored crystals and kept going.
He didn’t even need to use Analysis Mode, the whole process felt natural and easy. He even had a sense that, in order to finalize the level, he would have to compress all the mana droplets into some sort of liquid layer. How to do that was unclear, but he would figure it out.
Level: 1/20 – XP: 312/2000
Now he needed to sleep.
***
Albert woke up with beady eyes and realized not only that he would not be showering today, but also that the lack of basic engineering feats like running water meant no washing his face either.
The fact that there weren’t any magic appliances to compensate for the lack of basic hygienic services meant that they were either beyond what was available here, or that adventurers had other means of cleaning themselves.
Now, normally he would have fixated on the issue and would have created a skill or something, perhaps sinking tens of hours into the task. But he did not, knowing that he had already wasted a full day yesterday without making any progress towards either returning home or finding the Kirkesis core.
There was a greater than zero probability that the two things would end up coinciding.
Downstairs, the whole common room was in upheaval. Such was the chaos of bodies, clad in bulky armor and weapons, that Albert struggled to reach the man at the counter even with the aid of his skills. At the counter was the same guy who was on bar duty the other night, fortunately, which saved Albert some time.
“Here.”
“Thank you, lad. So, you did have the money, huh? Don’t sweat the breakfast, I was just joking last night. But you might want to register with the guild master if you intend to stay.”
“Oh, okay.” Albert said.
“Name’s Tom, by the way.”
“Albert.”
“Pleasure. Sorry if I sound less than enthusiastic, by the way. Believe me, I’m not usually like this. Uhm, speaking of which… Perhaps wait until later to register… now it’s really not the time.”
“I can see that.” Albert said. “What’s going on?”
“The master just made an announcement that a whole team went missing. It’s unusual around here. There is the occasional death but… you know, it’s a small city. Losing four people like this, strong adventurers. It doesn’t happen.”
“Oh. Do you know anything about it? Were they attacked?”
“Yeah.” Tom said. “One of the adventurers managed to escape, came back here. She said they were attacked by elves. They ought to be crazed elves to break the treaty like this. She said they go out and hunting for mages.”
Albert reflexively put a hand to his ear, as if to check something. His hair, which had grown long and unruly in all the time he spent in the Void isle, hid his elven features.
“Yeah. Those kinds of elves.” The man said, misunderstanding the gesture. “Fuckin pointed ears. They have always been racist, but this? I really hope it’s just a rogue group.”
Albert had a bad feeling about all this. A very bad feeling. “You said one of them returned?”
“Yeah. A girl, a huntress. Then she left again, seeking vengeance. Well, she didn’t find it, I reckon, because she never returned. It’s only been a day but…”
The man’s tone of voice carried an unspoken kind of pain that made Albert almost want to tear his hair out. Especially because he knew the huntress in question.
He was the one who killed her, after all.
It was self-defense.
He didn’t want to kill her.
He didn’t.
He was forced to.
Forced.
By circumstance.
He had tried to be reasonable.
To do the right thing.
But then she died.
She died because he could not control his psionic power.
She died because of his failure.
Tom interpreted the silence as empathy and lack of words. Which was true, but not for the reason he thought.
Tom laughed the hard laugh of the pained and the mourning, putting a heavy hand on Albert’s shoulder. He was huge, tall, with a large belly and a long beard. He towered over Albert.
“I knew you were a good lad. You don’t even know them, yet you understand the pain better than most people in this room.”
Albert swallowed. He really did understand the pain, didn’t he?
