Vraxious- Hopes End Village

  It took Vrax another round of healing magic and a full afternoon of helping clean up the aftermath of his ambush. He had smoothed over things with several pissed-off merchants the old-fashioned way. Bribes. A few vendors he just flat out gave a handful of silver coins to and a heartfelt apology. Most of them were surprisingly understanding since they made so much money from the rare goods he regularly sold to them. Hopes End was a rather tight-knit community after all. Not everyone liked each other, but in the end you could count on your neighbors if it really came down to it. And in the majority of merchants' eyes, Vrax more than covered the damage and inconvenience.

  The most difficult one...was the baker who had lost all her early morning business. Martha looked down on Vrax with a deep scowl highlighted by ruddy cheeks and a tangle of golden hair stuffed into a bun. She wielded a rolling pin as if it was a greatsword in his general direction.

  “Boy, how do you expect to make up for this nonsense?” She gestured wildly toward her ruined cart and the damaged ones nearby. “Now we all like you, but this has gone far beyond your normal mischief. I had two days of goods stored in my hot box here, and as you can see,” she paused and dramatically looked through a gaping hole in her cart.

  Why does everyone keep calling me boy, dammit? I'm twenty! Ehh, now’s not the time. Damage control Vrax, damage control, you want to remain everyone’s favorite mischievous scamp who brings them unobtainable goodies. Not become the town menace.

  Vrax smiled apologetically. “Martha, my beloved, artisan of the finest buns within the kingdom. Please tell me what I can do to make this right for you.” Vrax gave the best dashing bow he could. “ I would be beside myself if I couldn’t enjoy your world-class baking anymore due to my own foolishness.”

  Martha puffed up a bit at the blatant flattery; it appeared to be working. Then her eyes narrowed like an owl with a mouse in its sight. “Well, I suppose if you really want to make amends…”

  “Of course! Just tell me what I can do.”

  She sprung her trap. “Well, darling, I think one keg of illuminated honey would more than cover the damages.”

  fuck……

  Vrax barely managed to keep his smile even. “Of…of course, my dear, one keg of honey is easy enough for me.”

  I'm going to fucking die.

  “I knew I could count on you, Vrax! Every time I have asked old Feldwin to get me some, he has had unkind words for me and has never accepted, no matter my price.” She patted Vrax fondly on the back, ushering him away from her stall, indicating her price was named.

  Because Feldwin chooses life, you wretch in baker's skin.

  Vrax shuffled away. He really wasn’t looking forward to getting the [Soul Render] honey she wanted. A keg of that, and she wouldn’t need to buy sugar for the next five damn years. Of course Feldwin said no. That crusty old ranger was the only other person in town who regularly went foraging in the Forsaken Lands and survived. He survived by not doing stupid shit like getting near [Soul Render] nests. with the temporary resolution of Martha's anger. Finally he was released from the watchful eye of William.

  Now in the town library, a dusty, narrow, two-story building packed so tight with shelves stuffed with books. That one had to shimmy sideways between the tomes. and hold your breath or risk a mildew-inspired respiratory failure. Vrax shimmied back up the staircase, carefully stepping over scattered books to his minuscule working area overlooking the lower floor. He already had three stacks of books in a pile in front of him. On the biggest joke of a tiny desk imaginable, he crammed his legs in under the desk and opened the first book.

  The selection available in the library was eclectic, to say the least. It ranged from random informational books available in any bookshop in the kingdom. All the way to half-burned and rotted tomes taken from forgotten Elysium ruins. There was a large market in town for rare, forgotten books. Mages and many aspiring talents would sell their firstborn child for the off chance that the right book might contain paths to power lost to the ages.

  Obviously most books that adventures shoveled off shelves in damp places were of the much more mundane variety. A thousand-year-old cookbook was certainly interesting, but there wasn’t a massive demand for it. The town's premier bookstore, Knowledge is Power, had to do something with all the books it couldn’t sell...thus the library could have some real gems in it with nuggets of information you would never expect to find outside of the great archives within the Crystal Conservatory. But you really, really had to dig for it.

  Vrax rubbed his burning eyes; he was reading by lamplight at this point. He had almost exclusively stuck to books that seemed like they could be from Elysium itself. The last dozen books had held little to nothing of value. Information on old trade routes and the tax rates was certainly neat but unhelpful. Though he did pull out his roughly drawn map of the forsaken lands and make some notes on the old trade routes odds of ruins bordering them were very high. His is bleary gaze halfway skipped over a journal entry about the payments from various temples to the capitol. Then he traced back to begin reading it in more detail, sure he had seen something.

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  Magnon's cult of fire, thirty bars of iron, and an enchanted anvil.

  Vesullus moon cult, three casks of blessed waters.

  Rembrand Church of Order, ten men at arms for the city guard term of four years.

  Vrax sneered at the mention of Rembrand, god of law and order. Vrax and damn near everyone else he knew in town were not fans of that tyrannical group of zealots. It certainly didn’t help that most rulers adored them for helping to keep things nice and orderly. No matter the injustices being dealt out. The region Hope's End was in being no exception to that. The town is short three coins on the taxes? Pretty even odds that the church would send a “representative” to talk to you accompanied by some of the Damned Duke’s guard. He went back to reading.

  Carnon cult of excess, thirty bottles of wine, three jars of mind blaze.

  Metanon church of charity, two hundred bushels of grain, a note directing the bushels be given to the poor.

  Thrognar church of war, two battle-masters for the king's guard term until death.

  Vurune grove of the cycle, one echo stone, One Spriggan sapling.

  “There!” Vrax pumped his fist into the air in victory, the sudden movement causing a veritable wave of dust to cascade off of the bookshelves pressed tight around him, dampening the moment considerably.

  A calm, studious voice rose from the ground floor. “You good up there, Vrax?”

  Vrax struggled through the coughing fit that having dust from the past age forced into his sinuses had caused. “Mostly, thanks, Thomas,” Vrax called back down to the librarian. “Maybe dust?” he added as a half-choked afterthought.

  “Right after I sort and catalog all these donations,” he said from halfway inside a semicircle of books by the front door taller than he was.

  Vrax greedily read through the rest of the trade book, hoping for a glimmer of information. Echo stones sounded like something important. In fact, they sounded, in name at least, similar to the magical gems Feldwin had sold to a merchant caravan last year for a damned hefty amount of coin. Now if he could just get Feldwin to divulge the general area he had gathered them, it was at least a start.

  Vrax and Feldwin had an...intesting relationship. They certainly respected each other, but the way they thought about forest craft was damned near polar opposites. Where Vrax glided through the trees like a specter, spending days studying new regions. Learning the tells of different plants and animals and, hopefully, ways to sidestep combat with them. Or, best case, ways to coexist while he gathered resources. Only resorting to meticulously laid traps and distractions where he had to.

  Feldwin was a mid tier-two [Swift Foot Ranger] . Who shot into the wood like a diving falcon. Weaving from clearing to clearing, grabbing what he could as fast as he could. Killing anything he could that came remotely close to him for the essence. Being so high-level, he certainly had the power and skills to make this approach work. Vrax felt that Feldwin was missing out on half the fun of exploring and that he skipped so many wondrous and valuable things being in such a damn rush. Feldwin thought Vrax was just asking to get fucking eaten. Lingering about with the monsters and not having the power to actually fight most of them off. It was the height of folly as far as Feldwin was concerned.

  However, they did share notes and maps occasionally; it would be stupid not to. Even if they never worked together other than in passing. A kindred soul with information possibly critical to survival wasn’t something either of them could pass up on. Vrax slipped a tea-stained bookmark into the book, closing it for a moment. He needed to give his brain a damn rest.

  He leaned over to a stack of first edition books he had assembled days ago. Sometimes they had hidden fragments of less ubiquitous knowledge that got printed before the nobility recognized the mistake and stripped it from the next printing. Vrax liked to kill time skimming through them. He reached down to the top book. A small chuckle easing its way out.

  He lifted the thin, familiar booklet, The Path To Power. Everyone had read this. It was a primer aimed to stop the incessant questions from children about how levels worked. The kid won't stop asking how many talents they will get? Or what it means to evolve a class? Hand them the primer and send them to their room. Hells, that exact scenario had happened to a young Vrax. William tossing him a small stack of books in an attempt for blessed silence. Vrax cracked the cover open with a small nostalgic smile, the smell of paper washing across him.

  Let's start with essence, kids! It's the building blocks of the system's power. You gain it either through crafting, exploring, or fighting monsters! It all goes to your system sanctuary.

  Your sanctuary is where you make yourself stronger! Everyone’s looks different. Mine is a castle filled with paintings! I change the paintings in my sanctuary while imagining what I want to be able to do! This uses up my essence. Remember, kids, the more powerful or bigger the changes you make are, the more essence it uses! So sometimes it's smart to make your firebolt fly farther or burn hotter instead of making your firebolt try and freeze things because it sounds neat.

  But before we can do that, we have to pick a class! What classes the system offers you depends on what you do! If you fight with swords, the system might offer you [Swordmaster] if you spend all day baking and practicing magic, maybe the system will offer you [Enchanted Provisioner], letting your apple pies really be magical. The possibilities are literally endless. Classes are all at least a tiny bit different for each person, even starting out.

  Once you pick a class, the system gives you new things in your sanctuary and lets you make bigger changes! Your [core] lets you change how strong or fast you are. Putting essence here lets you become as strong as a giant or as tough as a golem!

  With your class you get two [skills] these are special powers you can build up with your essence, like firebolt or healing hands.

  Finally, when you get a class, you get a [Talent]. This is a special passive ability that helps you in some way. Maybe it will let you see through walls or even make you fireproof!

  Now every 25 levels you get a new skill!

  New talents come when the system thinks you did something really, really impressive. Like maybe stopping a rebellion! or healing an important noble!

  Vrax furrowed his brows at that last line. Never caught that shameless propaganda in the first read, huh.. He shrugged and kept reading.

  Be wise with how you use your essence, kids. Clever and efficient usage will make you much, much stronger than brute-forcing all your essence away to make fireballs the size of a castle. You have to pick what you really want to be good at. There is never enough essence to do everything.

  Vrax closed the halfway finished book with a snap, it was getting late. The path to power was honestly a decent introduction for kids; it left out many important details, but the broad strokes were there.

  He really needed to get himself to bed. He had training in the morning with Torvald. And then he needed to find Feldwin, who, if his memory served right, was currently on an expedition in the Forsaken Lands.

  Oh, I have to figure out how to get [soul render] honey without being shucked like a corn cob too. That fun little side quest.