"Ironside,
When you sent word of a potential candidate, I never thought have someone so desperately mad lined up! Arvos knows this lad might have a shot! He's not the brightest I've seen, granted, in fact, he's not bright at all sometimes…"
---
Elias darted forward with his right arm acting as a shield for his face as a terrifying warmth shot past him. His steps were frantic as he crashed behind a buttressed wall in the stone corridor. Scorch marks littered his now patchy clothing. He cursed, "Move!"
---
"…But he's got spirit. Oh, by the Above! He's got spirit…"
---
He launched himself from cover to cover, the corridor stretching for another forty meters. The buttressed walls he used for cover jutted out a man's width every few meters on both sides. He could see the door at the end, to the left of that damned inferno-maker. Every part of him was beginning to feel as though he'd been dragged through brambles.
---
"…I don't know why you decided to wait until now to send him to me. Or why you didn't train him yourself? Why didn't you, eh? Ah, well. I'm sure you have your reasons…"
---
This wasn't the first trap Elias had run into on this excursion, oh no. This was just one of a series of well-placed and inconsiderate obstacles. He dashed again. He was closing in. The problem was that he had less time to avoid the endless spewing of fireballs the closer he got. "For the love of Uthred's fucking gods!" he yelled, "What was wrong with that holy bastard?!"
---
"…It doesn't matter Ironside, I've got this! Hah! Don't you worry about it anymore! He's picking things up quickly, but… Well, I genuinely thought the lad would've stopped agreeing to these tasks weeks ago…"
---
"No time to think," Elias thought as he dived forward one last time, straight across the line of fire. A pulse surged from his centre as his right arm moved to cover the angle of attack from the ball of flame, he felt his mana rush from his centre and into his channels, converging into a point centrally in his arm—a glowing rune appearing as it did, only an inch away from his skin, the connection of his spirit to the skill released a wave of relief.
The flame struck, its intense heat colliding with a now visible array of mana. The blue tint of the barrier, now visible to the naked eye refracted heat in all directions.
[Mana Points: 4 / 58]
The prompt flashed in his periphery as a searing pain coursed into his arm, his barrier wasn't strong enough to fully nullify the attack, "Agh!" he grimaced as his body slammed into the door.
---
"You know, I've never been so entertained so early into having an Aspirant. By the Twins above, I might take him as a personal squire if he keeps this up…"
---
Elias briefly held his arm in his left hand as he looked at the stone gargoyle-like statue that had warmed his approach. The details of its features were delicately carved into an obsidian-like stone and a red gemstone sat locked in its open mouth. It's eyes were sculpted to face opposite directions—giving an air of lunacy.
He had been in this labyrinthian catacomb for hours, its originally dusty and decrepit features turning into what seemed like an underground keep, the corridors turning symmetrical and grand—rooms made of brick and cut stone rather than the dirty burrowed-out chambers above. He could tell that whoever constructed this place had significant time and skill—he'd never seen anything like it—his issue however, was that it kept trying to kill him!
Uthred, that Twin-loving bastard, had been sending him on an increasingly absurd series of tasks. At first, they seemed ordinary enough—'Pick up some supplies from town,' or 'Deliver this message for me, lad.' Then, without warning, they escalated to this: 'Venture into an abandoned crypt and single-handedly overcome a network of defences constructed by some nefariously talented gargoyle-lovers and explore an underground keep to find a needle-in-a-haystack treasure lost to generations of knights.' Elias cursed, well, he actually asked him to 'Fetch a gem…" but he knew what he had actually meant. He smacked his forehead against the door before opening it—as he stepped inside, adrenaline pulsed through his veins.
"…I got distracted, I always do. By the Twins, I will keep the boy safe and teach him. I owe you that much.
Look after yourself, and may the Twins be with you, always.
Uthred Gorgos."
Jacob smiled as he lowered the letter on the small desk in the cabin. He took in Uthred's words as he imagined Elias's trials—"Poor boy…" he laughed as he remembered his times with that divine bastard. He pictures Elias's confusion and frustration as he was undoubtedly navigating Uthred's unconventional teaching methods. He picked the letter up again, re-reading a section as he laughed again.
His eyes moved from the letter to the cabin around him as he felt the familiar rhythm of the ships swaying underneath him. The cabin was modest, dark wood gleamed in candlelight and a small, round window sat on the wall facing outwards to the grey sea outside. The smell of salt and damp wood was heavy in the air and it intertwined with the lingering pipeweed from Jacob's pipe.
He walked from one side of the cabin to another as he tried to process his own thoughts.
Three months. It had been three months since Elias had embarked on his journey with Uthred. He'd entrusted the boy to his old friend, he knew that Uthred would push him to his limits and—well that was what he needed. Elias needed to become strong enough to face what came next, for him and for the Empire.
Jacob ran a hand over the wood surrounding the window frame as his thoughts wandered to Haven's Point—to Elias, his eyes haunted with the loss of his mother, his friend and his hope, he saw how much he thirsted for vengeance. The boy was burdened with the loss of everything he held dear—and he'd abandoned Elias as well.
The weight of the grief that Elias held on his shoulders would either harden or break the boy, he needed time. He needed to experience the world—as much of it as he could, and as quickly as possible.
He had his reasons for sending the boy away—this journey across the seas, he had to go.
Pushing himself away from the window he put his hand to his chin, "Where's my pipe when I need it?" he grunted as his mulled over his plan. He had to reach the Ironstone Coalition and find the truth. His other hand reached into his other pocket and his fingers ran over the familiar metal object within, after a few moments he pulled it out—a single, tarnished key. It might not look like much, but this key would unlock all of it. Everything they'd buried in the past.
His journey was far from over, they had miles of ocean to cross, but he would find the answers he sought, no matter the cost.
He glanced one last time at the letter as another smile fell over his lips.
Elias arched his back as he adjusted; he was sat against the stone wall of a small room. The damp air of the catacombs he had felt not long ago had now been replaced with a stale musk. It felt like he had travelled for hours, through a maze of corridors and room. Everything single one devoid of life.
He was tired, the burns on his arm were pulsing, the cut across his cheek stung and there were bruises and grazes all over the rest of his body.
He sighed briefly before a slight smile crept on his face:
[Mana Barrier – Tier: 0 – Level: 3 has increased to Level: 4 – +1 Willpower, +1 Intelligence]
The euphoria of his skill levelling swept through his body. It was the only thing that kept him from attempting to murder his new overlord in his sleep. Uthred Gorgos was utterly insane, mentally unstable and possibly unhinged—but he was also an incredible instructor.
Elias had become subject to a gruelling training regime, he'd rise at the break of dawn and run for what felt like hours, then he'd practice weapons forms with a variety of weapons: Sword, mace, spear, dagger, axe—and any other weapon he could think of. Afterwards, he'd receive lectures, usually focussing on his lack of System knowledge; which was something Uthred had been confused about.
For some reason, Uthred had expected Jacob to have enlightened him on the finer workings of the System from a young age, especially given Elias's goals and drive—then, to finish off the day, Uthred would spar with him; 'spar' being a stretch, Uthred would pummel him into submission three of four times, before giving him a few hours to rest.
Elias pulled a small tin from a leather pouch adorning his belt and unscrewed the top—an aroma of lavender and eucalyptus embraced him as he began to apply the jelly-like paste to his burns—it was the last of his salve, but the blistering burns on his arm were too much of a distraction.
The paste immediately soothed the pain, a cooling sensation seeping deep into his arm. He took a breath, relaxing slightly before discarding the tin onto the stone floor.
Skills, he thought, were the foundation of power for anyone utilising the System; Uthred had explained the basics over the first couple of days of their journey. Like everything in the System, they were split into Tiers and Levels. Tiers indicating a staged milestone of the Skills growth and levels indicated the power level within the stage. Levels one to twenty were Tier one, Twenty-one to forty were Tier two, forty one to sixty were Tier three and so on. However, anything above Tier three was nearly unheard of, according to Uthred at least.
Each time a skill went up and Tier it would undergo significant changes—resulting in additional, improved or altered effects.
To level a skill within a Tier, he simply had to use it. Skill levelling slowed exponentially after each milestone and you could only advance to the next Milestone when your Path Tier was the same as the one you want to advance into.
The problem was, Elias wasn't Tier one or Tier two…
[Name: Elias Grey
Race: Human, Male
Age: 17
Disabled Functionality: N/A
Disabled Functionality: N/A
Life Points: 62 / 98
Mana Points: 8 / 61
Strength: 18
Endurance: 16
Vitality: 16
Willpower: 21
Intelligence: 20
Perception: 17
Agility: 14
Luck: 36
Available Attributes for distribution: 0
Titles:
Brave Antagonist,
Potential Prodigy,
Survivor,
Seedling,
Aberration Slayer,
Skilled,
Innate Abilities:
Corrupted Core - Unique - Tier 0, Level 1
Skills: 3/5
Mana Manipulation - Basic - Tier 0, Level 2
Mana Barrier - Basic - Tier 0, Level 4
Scan - Basic - Tier 0, Level 1]
Elias was Tierless.
After a heated debate with Uthred over how obvious it was to locate the 'Current Tier' line on the Prompt, he eventually learned how to share his Statistics window—upon inspection Uthred had said, "Well, I don't know how you've done it lad, but you have. You've broken it!"
They decided that the System, which had only awakened within him with limited functionality hadn't enabled his access to the Path Tier or Level system—because of this, his skills started at Tier zero instead of Tier one. What did this mean? Elias had no idea, and neither did Uthred.
What they did know was that Elias could still gain skills like everyone else did, and as such, his mentor had provided the first three of five skills that a Tier one could normally manage, which surprisingly, was also as many as the System told him he could manage at Tier zero. The addition of three skills had also granted a title: Skilled, which granted a bonus: [+1 to all attributes]
Now that the salve had been applied and he had rested for a few moments, he stood, facing the three doors ahead of him. He was stood in a small stone room that looked like it had been picked clean in an age gone by; slightly darker grey stone lined the first third of the wall from the ground. Light emanated from six tiny opal-like crystals mounted equidistantly on the arched ceiling. Which provided enough light not to strain his eyes as he moved through the underground structure, but only just. The floor was made of large chiselled slabs of an obsidian-like stone, matching that of the Gargoyle from earlier. Four doors sat equally distanced around the room; the doors were plain and wooden.
He had left each door he had entered slightly ajar so that he could immediately tell if he had circled back on himself.
"No time like the present…" he said as he shook himself a final time, his hand moved over to the hilt of the sword that was sheathed in a scabbard on his belt, a much more appropriate replacement to the small gathering knife he had shepherded everywhere. "This gem had better be worth something…"