Runeguard 017

With my chores done for the day, I headed for the tavern. Barging through its doors, I made a beeline for the stairs, eager to begin the experiments I had in mind.

But as I crossed the tavern threshold, I drew to an abrupt halt.

The tavern was not empty as I expected.

“Well, look who it is,” Jorge said.

“All dressed up too,” Gavin snickered.

Jorge laughed. “Looks like he is moving up in the world.”

I resumed walking at a much slower pace this time. The five players that I kept bumping into were sitting at one of the common room’s tables in the otherwise empty tavern. 

Curious as to why they were here, I headed for the bar instead of my room as I had first intended.

“I’m surprised to see you all here,” I said as I passed their table. They were eating roast lamb and drinking ale, I noted. They had to be doing well for themselves to afford such expensive luxuries.

“We could say the same of you,” Bayan said.

“Nice digs,” Beth said, eyeing my leather clothes. “The Weavers decided to accept you as a customer after all, huh?”

I nodded as I placed my hand on the tavern vendor and ordered a meal, deliberately choosing the least expensive.

Picking up the bowl of soup that materialized on the countertop, I sat down at a table adjacent to the party. I could feel the group’s gazes on me, but I didn’t join them. Bayan had made clear on more than one occasion that my presence wasn’t welcome.

“So why are you guys here?” I asked, deciding to be forthright.

“We’re staying in the tavern,” Lauren answered while Jorge shook his head pityingly as he eyed my soup.

My eyebrows rose. So not only could their group afford expensive dinners, they could manage the price of the rooms too. “Why?” I asked.

“It’s safer,” Beth said.

“Safer?” I repeated, puzzled. What did a group such as theirs have to fear?

Beth just shook her head. “Things are chaotic in the camp, and we can’t afford for our rest to be disturbed tonight. Tomorrow, we plan on—”

Bayan chopped his hand down, cutting her off. As one the party fell silent and turned back to their meals.

Damn, I thought. Why did he have to silence her? And just as she was getting to the interesting bit. I dribbled soup slowly into my mouth while waiting for the party’s conversation to resume.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Jorge and Gavin began whispering to each other. I eavesdropped shamelessly.

But despite my best efforts, I only caught one word in ten. It was enough though. After hearing the word ‘dungeon’ repeated a few times, it became obvious what their plans were: they intended on tackling a dungeon tomorrow.

It left me in a bit of a quandary. Adi’s information from earlier was still playing on my mind, as was Bayan’s dislike of me.

Coming to a decision, I stood up abruptly. The group’s conversation terminated just as suddenly as all eyes turned to me.

Walking over to their table, I stopped before Bayan. “I have a proposition for you. May I sit?”

The bearded man didn’t look up from his plate. Stubbornly, I waited. Eventually, he glanced up. From his expression, I knew what his response was going to be.

“Let’s hear him out,” Beth said before he could speak.

Bayan closed his mouth and scowled at her.

“I agree,” Lauren said, chiming in in support of her sister. “Whatever he is, he is clearly capable. He has to be if he has managed to thrive this long on his own.”

“Are you serious?” Gavin blurted. “Not even a day ago, this noob was wandering around half-naked. He is not worth our time!”

“Gav is right,” Jorge said, his face unwontedly serious. “I know you two like him, Beth, but we don’t know the guy. We can’t trust him.”

I looked at Jorge in surprise. Given his previous behavior, I didn’t expect such serious consideration from the freckled youth.

“We have to—” Beth began.

“Enough,” Bayan said. The others fell silent. He turned to me. “Sit,” he said. “We’ll hear you out.”

I sat. “I know you are going to tackle one of the dungeon’s tomorrow,” I said without further preamble.

No one said anything.

“I want to join your party,” I added.

Gavin snorted, but the others didn’t break their silence.

I glanced around the table, eyeing each of the group in turn. “Look, I know you are all mages.”

“And how do you figure that?” Bayan asked evenly.

“It’s clear from your garb. You are all wearing silk clothes—no leather armor—even though it’s evident you could afford better if you wanted.”

Jorge stared at me. “So, what if we are mages? You’re clearly not one yourself. Or if you are, you’re a stupid one. What are you? A thief?” he asked, his voice dripping with contempt on the last word.

I shook my head. “No. I am a tank.”

My words sent a jolt through the group and for the first time I saw a spark of interest in Bayan’s eyes.

“Impossible,” Gavin muttered. “A tank in light armor?”

“Metal is hard to come by,” I responded evenly. “And the System’s armor is too expensive to buy. I wear what I can.”

Bayan shook his head. “I admit I find your choice of development interesting,” the bearded man allowed. “But Gavin’s point is valid. Without heavy armor, you wouldn’t be of much use to us.” He stared steadily at me. “I must decline.”

The words themselves were a dismissal. I didn’t leave though. I didn’t think it worth telling the group the smiths would have my armor ready in a day. Bayan didn’t strike me as a man who would wait on anyone. 

Nor did I try arguing that Bayan’s assessment of my usefulness as a tank was flawed. The bearded man was too certain of his own judgement to be swayed.

I played my next card. “What level is your group?” I asked brusquely.

Bayan looked at me with unsmiling eyes. “And why would we tell you that?”

I sat back. “I’m level ten,” I said.

“Sure you are, bud,” Gavin said with an amused snort.

“Make my level public, Adi.”

“Done, Dace.”

“Check for yourself,” I said.

“We don’t need to—” Gavin began.

“He is level ten,” Beth said, sounding surprised.

The others fell silent as they ran the same check that Beth had.

“Again interesting,” Bayan said. “But still not good enough to—”

“You will reject the help of the first level ten player in the Creche?”

He paused. “Are you claiming to be the one that initiated the Creche evolution?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Even if I believed you, that is still not enough,” Bayan said.

God, this man is stubborn, I thought, beginning to regret the impulse that had led me to approach them. 

If their leader was this dead set against me joining their party, I was no longer as certain about tackling a dungeon with them. How could I trust him? Or the rest of them?

Beth spoke up. “Bayan, I think you are letting your prejudices get the better of you.” She glanced at me. “Dace is right, we need a tank. And despite what you or Gavin say, he has to be a good one if he has reached level ten—and without magic too. We are also a player short for a full dungeon party. If we don’t want to share the fate of the other groups, we should let him join us.”

Bayan finally seemed to be wavering. I shot Beth a grateful look. Her defense of me convinced me to play my final card. 

I hadn’t wanted to reveal my life magic, but I realized if I wanted their group to trust me, I had to display a measure of it myself.

“I have magic,” I said.

Five pairs of eyes swung my way.

“Told you he was a stupid noob,” Gavin said with a snort. 

“You do?” Lauren asked, her expression confused. “Then why wear armor?”

“I have life magic,” I said. “And the Class I am aiming for is the guardian one—which I can only find in a dungeon.”

The silence was absolute.

“Life Essence,” Bayan said slowly. “I don’t believe any of the vendors sell that.”

“They don’t. It’s a tier two Essence, I found on a level five bloat fly queen.”

“What’s a bloat fly?” Gavin asked.

Ignoring him, Bayan kept his gaze pinned on me. “Show me.”

I removed my glove. Drawing my dagger, I cut deeply into my palm. I let the blood well so there could be no doubt about the wound. 

Then I cast lesser heal.

A few seconds later, my hand was whole again.

I glanced at the others. All of them—except Bayan—appeared awed by the display.

The group’s leader met my gaze. “I accept your request. We leave before first light tomorrow for the dungeon. Don’t be late.”

✵ ✵ ✵

After my revelations, none of the group were surprised to find out I was staying in the tavern as well.

The six of us marched up the stairs together. The group, it turned out, were sharing a large room. Standing outside our respective doors, we said our good nights.

“Hey guys,” I called, a thought just occurring to me.

About to enter their room, the five swung my way.

“What do you people call yourselves?”

Jorge and Gavin looked at me as if I was mad.

“You don’t know?” Beth asked with an amused laugh.

I shook my head.

“You tell him, Beth,” Bayan said with a disinterested grunt before ducking into their room. The other three followed him in, leaving me and Beth alone.

Beth shook her own head. “Why am I not surprised?” she asked herself.

“I don’t understand,” I said, confused by everyone’s reactions.

“We’re the Paragons,” she replied, looking at me expectantly.

I looked at her blankly. “Alright, so, uhm… cool name?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “You don’t recognize the name, do you? How can you know so little about what happens in the Creche?”

“I’ve been busy,” I said defensively. “I’ve hardly spent any time in town at all.” I paused. “I take it from everyone’s reactions, I should have heard of you guys. So. Are you going to tell me?”

“The Paragons are only the top guild in the Creche,” she said, exasperated, “and eighty-seventh in the sector’s top hundred leaderboard!”

I blinked. “There’s a leaderboard?”

Beth bent over laughing. “You’re too much, Dace.” Her mirth faded. “It’s what makes Bayan so standoffish, you know. Plenty of players pester us every day to join. It’s why we thought you kept bothering us.”

“That wasn’t why!”

She tilted her head as she studied me. “I know. I thought your innocence genuine.” She paused. “The others are… more cynical, shall we say.”

“I see,” I said, and I really did. I didn’t dislike Bayan so much anymore. Gavin on the other hand…

“Anyways, good night, Dace,” Beth said.

“Goodnight Beth,” I replied and entered my room.

✵ ✵ ✵

I didn’t go to sleep immediately. 

Sitting down cross-legged on the floor, I extracted three items from my inventory. Placing them carefully side by side in front of me, I took a moment to contemplate what I was about to attempt.

“Adi, can you help me?”

“With what, Dace?” She sounded puzzled.

“With transcribing Runes,” I said, staring down at the lesser bless spellbook, and the ink and paper next to it.

A drawn-out moment of silence followed. “It’s been attempted many times before, Dace,” she said quietly. “No one has ever succeeded.”

“Then there’s no harm in me trying,” I said stubbornly. I paused in sudden doubt. “Is there?”

“None that I am aware of, Dace.”

“That’s a relief,” I said with a chuckle. “So, will you help?”

“What is it you want me to do?”

“You said before you see what I see. Right?”

“Correct.”

“Well then, when I open the spellbook, I want you to hold the Runes of the first page in your memory. Can you do that?”

“I’m not sure,” Adi said hesitantly.

“Let’s try anyway. Ready?”

“I am.”

I opened the spellbook. 

✵ ✵ ✵

I blinked awareness, returning as the tome disappeared from my hands.

You have learnt the spell: lesser bless.

Spell: Lesser Bless

Effect: Buffs the target’s highest-ranked Essence by a value determined by the caster’s life magic skill.

Parent Essence: life. Parent skill: life magic. Requirements: none. Duration: 5 minutes.

I groaned on seeing the System message. I knew then that the first part of my plan had failed.

It had been my intent to open the spellbook just a smidge, sneak a quick peek, and then transcribe what I saw from memory.

Clearly even that quick look was enough for me to be sucked in by the Runes’ hypnotic grip.

“Adi,” I asked hopefully. “Do you remember anything?”

“I do, Dace.” She sounded troubled. “But the memory feels hazy, not at all like how I normally remember things.”

I grabbed the pen and paper. “Alright, describe what you saw in as exacting detail as you can.”

Adi and I spent the next hour trying to scribe a single Rune. Even that was no easy feat though.

That one Rune alone consisted of over a dozen different strokes, each intricately linked. I tried my best to follow Adi’s instructions and draw every curve as precisely as she described and color each line to her exact specification, but no matter how diligently I listened to Adi, my every effort failed to pass muster.

Time and again, Adi pronounced my work inaccurate. I sensed her frustration and felt a fair share of my own. Yet despite Adi correcting me repeatedly, and despite me producing numerous variations of the Rune, I failed every time to duplicate the image in her mind.

I didn’t give up though.

One hour turned into two, and two into three, and ever so slowly, I felt understanding creep closer. I sensed I was on a precipice, on the verge of an epiphany. The Rune’s nature, I thought excitedly, was almost within my grasp.

Then disaster struck.

“Dace.”

“Yes, Adi?” I asked absently, not pausing in my scribing.

“The Rune is gone.”

My hand stilled. “What do you mean, gone?”

“I can no longer recall the Rune, or any of the others.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Adi said, sounding disconcerted. I’ve never forgotten anything before.”

“But… just a second ago, you were describing the Rune to me!”

“I know,” Adi said. “It’s almost as if the memory has been erased.”

I blinked, considering the implications. “What would have the power to do that?”

“The System and the upper echelon administrators, certainly,” Adi said. “The Creators, too.”

“What about the Simians?”

“No,” said Adi firmly. “They do not have that level of control over the Proving Grounds.”

We were so close, I thought. I looked from my unfinished work to the papers scattered all over the room. The hours of painstaking labor had all come to naught. 

Disheartened, I accepted the inevitable: I wasn’t going to learn any Runes tonight. “Thank you for trying, Adi,” I said. 

I tidied up the loose sheets of paper and slipped them back into my inventory. Laying down on the bed, I considered the day’s efforts. Despite my most recent failure, I had done well today. And tomorrow promised to be just as fruitful. Shrugging off my disappointment, I closed my eyes. 

It was only just as oblivion claimed me that I realized I had forgotten all about Marcos and the thieves.