๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ ๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐: +๐๐ ๐๐ฑ๐ฉ!
๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ ๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐: +๐๐ ๐๐ฑ๐ฉ!
๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ฐ๐๐๐ฉ๐จ๐ง ๐๐๐ฒ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก:
+๐ ๐๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก!
๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ง๐
๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐๐ง
๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ ๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ซ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐ฅ
๐๐น๐ฑ: 12/17
๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐ต๐ฉ: 92/100
๐๐ต๐ข๐ฎ๐ช๐ฏ๐ข: 41/180
๐๐ข๐ฏ๐ข: 0/0
๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ต๐ช๐ต๐ถ๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ: 10
๐๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ถ๐ณ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ: 18
๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ๐ช๐จ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ: 11
๐๐ฆ๐น๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐บ: 10
๐๐ต๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐จ๐ต๐ฉ: 9
๐๐ฑ๐ช๐ณ๐ช๐ต: 0
"Good news?"
Eve slammed her eyes shut to keep them from reflecting her status for all to see. "No peeking!"
Wes chuckled, "I'm not peeking. You're grinning wider than the north river."
Instinctively she raised a hand to cover her mouth before lowering it with a laugh of her own. "Yes, good news." She twisted her thumb to point at the rusty sword. "Three levels plus a point of Strength for using that piece of garbage."
"Garbage? I'll have you knowโwait. Did you say three levels?"
Eve nodded.
"I only got one!"
"Wait, really? But you did all the work. I only got credit for the last two. What's your experience at?"
"Now who's peeking?"
Eve rolled her eyes.
"Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely, I'm at forty-three out of sixty-three."
"Well, that'll do it. I only needed ten for the first level."
Wes furrowed his brow. "And I needed fifty. And now you're almost halfway to your first evolution. That doesn't seem fair."
"Oh, unfair is it, Mr. Flame Initiate?" Eve teased. "Remind me how rare your class is, or what you get for each level in it."
"Iโuhโwalked into that one, didn't I?" Wes sighed. "I suppose I owe you one. It's an Uncommon class; gives three Intelligence and two Spirit for each level."
"You're shitting me. Five times the exp and five times the stats for a single level of rarity? That's insane."
"Not to mention my level costs go up faster than yours. Just imagine what the really rare classes are like. At least the crazy stuff doesn't start showing up until the higher tiers."
Instead of replying, Eve's thoughts turned to her own class advancement.
Would she eventually work her way up to a Legendary class to match her quest? She shook her head. There would be time for daydreaming later.
The Messenger Girl pushed to her feet, careful to avoid pressing her scraped-up palms against the dirt.
"Where are you off to?"
"Practice." She pointed at her skinned cheek. "The wolves didn't do this; the ground did. Apparently running away is more dangerous than the skill makes it out to be."
Wes cocked an eyebrow. "You have a skill forโof course you do. Alright, let's see it."
Taking a moment to note the duration of her Run Away had increased with her Endurance to nine seconds, Eve stepped off the road and into the wild grass. Better to fall on soft greenery than hard dirt.
Bracing herself for another tumble, Eve took off.
The plains raced by as she activated her skill, her chestnut hair blowing wildly in the wind. The seconds ticked by. This time when the ability wore off, she was ready.
Eve jumped.
Instead of her upper body falling ahead of her feet, the girl transferred as much momentum as she could into the leap. She made it six feet into the air before the plummet.
Eve hit the ground running, her knees buckling from the force of the landing. She stumbled forward, barely keeping her balance as her arms flailed wildly.
From his vantage over 350 feet away, Wes applauded. "Do it again!" he called out.
Eve held up her hand in a rude gesture. Well, that kind of worked, she thought as her breath caught up with her. It's not exactly graceful, though. Useful for running away but not charging in?
She held her position away from Wes for a few minutes as her Stamina recovered and the cooldown refreshed. Already new ideas formed. By the time she once again began to run, Eve had another plan in mind.
As she rapidly approached a still-recovering Wes, the Messenger Girl counted down the seconds on her only ability.
Seven.
The wind rushed past, pleasantly chilling the scrape on her cheek.
Six.
The grass swayed beneath her feet, blown to and fro by the speed of her passage.
Five.
Her heart raced with both exertion and joy.
Four.
Eve slowed, actively forcing her pace to diminish beneath a full sprint. The final seconds of her skill ticked away, and again her upper body lurched beyond her legs' ability to keep up. Her arms flailed. Her feet flew wildly forward, each stride falling just short of catching her extended tumble.
Until they didn't.
One solid step followed another, until Eve's desperate stumble transformed into an easy, unenhanced run. She came to a halt just next to Wes, doubling over as she let out bursts of laughter through gasps for air.
"That was fast," the Initiate said. "What's the trick?"
Taking a moment to regain her breath, Eve replied, "Just 'cause it lets me run twice as fast doesn't mean I have to. Just gotta make sure to slow down before the skill times out."
"Makes sense. Congrats on mastering the art of running away." Eve smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand.
"Hey, if I'm gonna be stuck sitting here with a hole in my leg, I should at least be allowed a little fun."
Eve snorted, turning around for another attempt.
"What're you doing now?"
"Joke all you want," she replied, "but I haven't mastered it yet. Still came in too quick on that one." With a breath and a prayer, she was off.
It took two hoursโprimarily spent waiting for her Stamina to recoverโfor Eve to grow comfortable with the skill. She still found herself careening forth whenever she misjudged her speed, but at least she kept her feet every time.
By the time she returned to Wes's side, the stress of the workout and the blistering afternoon sun had left her drenched in sweat. He didn't even need to open his mouth to get the message across.
"Yeah, yeah," Eve replied to his look, "you don't smell fantastic either. You can buy me a room at the inn when we get to Fidsworth."
Wes raised his eyebrows. "I can buy?"
"I saved your ass, didn't I? Besidesโ" she pulled out her handful of coppersโ"I only have enough money to buy my bread. I wasn't supposed to stay the night."
"You're going to Fidsworth for bread? Why didn't you just get some from Mrs. Lundt back home?"
"You tell me," Eve said, unwilling to explain further. "How's your leg?" She extended a hand to peek under his shin guard.
He swatted it away. "You don't want to look. Believe me, I wish I hadn't. It's recovering, but it isn't pretty. Give it a few more hours."
"In the meantimeโ" Eve grabbed the sword, dragging it closer โ"let's talk about your gear."
"Honestly, I don't know what half this shit even does. I mean, obviously armor is armor, and Mrs. Lester told me about the Ring of Regeneration, but most of this stuff is so old it'd take a bloody Historian to identify it."
"Some of it's gotta be enchanted, right? Let's start with this." She ran a finger over the old weapon, her skin coming back up the color of rust. "Cleaning it would be a good first step."
Before Wes could get a chance to protest, she plucked a handful of grass, wadding it up into a makeshift brush. Pressing the flat of the blade into the dirt, she got to work.
Results were mixed.
While the scrubbing managed to remove some of the decay, her improvised tool left its own verdant stain upon the ancient saber.
"Shit."
Wes rolled his eyes. "This is why we use actual brushes to clean steel."
"You have an actual brush?"
He opened his mouth to speak, said nothing, closed it, exhaled, then finally replied, "Da wasn't about to load me up with smithing supplies when I left this morning."
"That's what I thought."
"Well, I guess you couldn't possibly make it dirtier." Wes reached out to reclaim the sword.
"Hold on," Eve stopped him. "Look at this." She traced a finger along the grass stains. "There are symbols here."
Sure enough, the viridescent marks turned out darker in a few particular areas along the flat of the blade. The shapes spelled out something, but for the life of her Eve couldn't determine what. "Any idea?"
Wes leaned over to peer at the runes. "It's not any language I've ever seen."
Eve shrugged, flipping the weapon over to examine the back side. A quick scrub with the grass-brush revealed yet more of the strange figures.
๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐๐ซ๐ง๐๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐!
๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ฆ๐บ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ข ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ช๐ค๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐จ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ง๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ต๐ญ๐ฆ. ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ข๐ด๐ช๐ค ๐ช๐ฏ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ข ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.
"Gods below," Eve swore. "I got a new skill."
"Wait, seriously? For rubbing some grass on an old sword?"
"Apparently." Turning her gaze back toward the item, Eve activated her new ability.
๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐
๐๐ข๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐บ: ๐๐ฏ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ
"Don't worry," she said. "It's not exactly useful. Just says it's a rusted sword."
"Gimme that." Wes reached out to reclaim his weapon, turning it over in his hands as he examined the runes for himself. He gave it a few minutes before his shoulders deflated.
"Nothing."
"Maybe you have to find something new? I already discovered the runes. Hells, it's not like you're short of crap to look over."
Wes didn't hesitate to drop the blade as he turned his attention first to a leather shoulder pad with frayed seams. While the man worked, Eve tested her Appraise on everything from her dirt-stained pants to individual strands of grass to the road itself.
None of the targets provided useful information about themselves or the skill she used, until her attention turned back to her traveling companion.
๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ ๐ ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐๐ญ๐
๐๐ง๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐จ๐ง ๐๐ข๐๐ซ ๐ ๐๐ฅ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ
๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, Eve mused.
Does it always tell a person's class, or do I only get Wes's because he already told me?
She got her answer when, twenty minutes later, he discovered a set of initials stitched into the lining of his vambrace.
"Got it!"
"Nice! Now use it on me. I wanna know what it tells you."
"It tells me that you're aโฆ level question mark Messenger Girl."
He sputtered. "Messenger Girl? Really? No wonder you have a skill for running away."
"Hey, I'll have you know I also have a skill for rubbing grass on old swords."
Wes fell back in a fit of laughter, his entire torso shaking with mirth as he lay upon the soft grass. Eve mirrored his sentiment, though she managed to stay upright. The absolute ox of a man was
still giggling when Eve spoke again.
"It gave me your exact levelโprobably something to do with the fact I out-level you. Though with class rarity having such an impact I imagine that's more important."
Shielding his eyes from the sun as he lay on his back, Wes's tone turned serious. "You know, you're quite a bit better than me at this whole 'adventuring' thing. Maybe you should be the one with the Epic quest."
Eve snorted, if for different reasons than Wes might've assumed.
"Not on your life."
"Yep, that's fair. I wouldn't wish this on anyone."
๐๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ, Wes, Eve thought. ๐๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ.
* * *
It was well past four by the time Wes was recovered enough to restart their journey.
Eve didn't mind the wait. Indeed she rather enjoyed the lazy afternoon, well in need of a rest after the morning's excitement.
The fledgling adventurers wiled the hours away with shared stories and lighthearted banter, each teasing the other for all manner of things in and out of their control.
The conversation continued as they reembarked.
Once his wounds had mostly vanished, Wes was kind enough to lend Eve his Ring of Regeneration for the duration of their trip. Though the dried blood remained, the cuts and scrapes along the
girl's palms and cheek knit shut well before the outer structures of Fidsworth came into view.
The blue gloom of twilight colored the air as the travelers finally arrived.
The road through Fidsworth was the same packed-earth as back home, the shops and houses the same hewn wood, and the roofs the same dry thatch. The townsfolk came and went in much the
same way as in Nowherested. Even the inn sat just as many lots away from the town's edge as The Sower's Mug.
"So, on to the baker, then?" Wes asked.
"Yep," Eve answered as they traversed the town's center. "If I remember correctly, it's right overโฆ shit."
Sure enough, the bakery was precisely where she'd expected to find it. She did not, however, expect to find the building unlit and the door latched shut. "They're closed."
Wes shrugged. "Ah well. You were gonna spend the night here anyway. We'll just get you your bread in the morning."
"Yeah, I justโฆ" Eve trailed off. "It's fine. You're right. I can just get it tomorrow."
Wes turned. "Great. Now that's out of the way, I'm in dire need of a hot meal."
Eve nodded, trying not to worry about her quest. It's late, she told herself. ๐๐ง ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ'๐ด ๐ค๐ญ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฅ. Everything's fine. It's all normal. She unclenched her jaw. She'd made it to the next town
over; now all she had to do was buy a loaf of bread.
If she could wait until evening for Wes to recover, she could wait until morning for the
shop to open. Easy.
The Laughing Swine sat mostly empty on this particular night, the denizens of Fidsworth still anxiously awaiting their own day with the Questing Stones.
Wes haggled with the innkeeper as Eve surveyed the common room.
What few patrons there were fixed their eyes upon the new arrivals, some with curiosity and others with suspicion.
It wasn't common in these parts to see a stranger so heavily armored as Wes, even if his getup looked like it belonged in a trash heap.
One man in particular caught Eve's attention. Though his thick brown hair and unkempt mustache weren't out of place in the farming village, the way he kept his eyes trained on Wes certainly
was. His wasn't the cautious gaze of a townsperson watching an outsider, but a deep scowl at some perceived slight.
Just as Eve thought to implement her new appraisal skill, the man leapt to his feet and bolted from the tavern.
๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, she mused. ๐ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต'๐ด ๐จ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ถ๐ฑ.
Wes interrupted her train of thought with an iron key pressed firmly into her hand. "One room at the local inn, as requested."
"Right. Thanks. Didโumโdid you see that guy just run outside?"
"No? Is something wrong?"
Eve grit her teeth, trying to decide if the man's odd behavior was worth the fuss. Ultimately, it was the layer of sweat which still so uncomfortably glued her blouse to the skin beneath it that forced her hand.
"It's fine. I'm going to go wash up." She stepped past the bulky mage and onto the stairs beyond.
A hot bath and a hearty meal later, she'd forgotten all about the strange man in favor of the more familiar worries over her confusing quest and limited class.
At least, Eve reassured herself as she lay comfortably on the straw pallet, ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ.