Spellbook

Essence Blast

Description: Unleash an explosion of essence.

Classification: Battle Magic

School: Evocation

Spell Tier: 1

Ability Rank:

1 - Basic concentration of essence.

2 - Your ability to control essence allows you to focus the blast, increasing the spells effective range and concentrating its power.

Notes by Ivish:

They stopped teaching battle magic by the time I entered the Wizards’ Academy, but we had our ways of finding secrets. This seemingly basic technique is the base of many evocation spells.

Hump woke bleary eyed to the shouts of two fishermen on the lake. It was early morning. A cold mist hung over the lake that seeped out onto the bank near where they’d made camp. He felt that cold twice. He’d stayed up late reading through his spellbook, maintaining a light spell for far longer than he should have, and now it was catching up on him. The book had yet to reveal new spells to him, instead, walking him through lessons on magic that the old man had been through with him a hundred times before. Whatever secrets and spells it contained; he couldn’t find them.

Bud was still asleep, the big man rested up against a tree nearby, huddled in an expensive wool cloak. There were a few other campsites along the shore, likely other dungeoneers without the coin for a room.

Hump lay there for a long minute, staring at the fishermen with narrow eyes. With every fibre of his being he willed them to be quiet. Perhaps if he were a little warmer he’d have mustered up the strength for a spell and blasted them into the lake. That would shut them up. Lucky for them he was cold, tired, and hungry—the three components that made up any true hedge wizard.

But even an experienced hedge wizard like himself could only hold on for so long, and soon the complaints of his stomach won out. Hump used his staff to heave himself to his feet, groaning as he did, feeling every bit as frail as an old man. He stumbled over to Bud and shook him with his foot.

The knight startled, slurping a strip of drool, blinking painfully against the morning sun. “What is it?” he slurred.

“Morning,” Hump said. “We’d best get moving if we’re to reach the dungeon today.”

Bud nodded. “Just, erm…” he wiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“A good adventurer must always be ready to go!” Hump said in his best impression of his master.

Bud groaned and lifted his cloak over his eyes. Hump chuckled, then set about feeding Prancer and Asoltef.

Bledsbury was coming to life as they entered town. They passed small groups of labourers, heading for the farms that Hump and Bud had passed the day prior. There was a buzz of voices from the market, and the smell of freshly baked bread lured him in that direction. The Adventurers’ Guild could wait, food came first.

He noted an apothecary as they walked. Nothing fancy, but he’d be able to stock up on ingredients before they left. One could never be too prepared for a dungeon, even a supposedly low-levelled one.

“I really do appreciate all your help,” Bud said, tearing into his half of a loaf of bread.

“Well don’t count on it lasting long,” Hump grumbled. As much as it pained him, a few coppers to keep a Chosen knight in his party was well worth the price. Unlike Bud, the horses had earnt the copper he’d spent on them for a couple of apples. It had been a long ride.

“You know I’ll pay you back.”

Like I’ve not heard that one before, Hump thought. “Sure. So long as we don’t die in the dungeon,” he said instead.

It was difficult to come by a companion he could trust. Mercenaries and adventurers were almost always in it for the money, that made them hard to trust. From what Hump could tell of Bud, he was more the type of idiot to get himself killed defending a woman’s honour than a thief.

“If I do die, feel free to take my sword. That will cover any debt between us, I’m sure.”

Hump glanced at the longsword at his hip and arched an eyebrow. Contrary to the condition of his armour, the sword appeared finely kept. The steel hilt was finely polished and decorated with a circlet of bronze toward the crossguard. It had a plain leather scabbard, bolstered with steel at the end. “Family heirloom?”

Bud nodded.

“Lucky you,” Hump said. “Well, with any luck it won’t come to that. You’ll scare half the monsters to death just from the size of you.”

Bud smiled, a nostalgic look in his eye. “Do you have any family?”

“If I do, they didn’t bother to inform me. The old man was the closest thing.”

“Is he dead?” Bud asked quietly.

Hump nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. How long has it been?”

Hump sighed, there was no point hiding it. “I buried him the morning before you ambushed me.”

Bud paused, looking up at the clouds. “He’d be proud to know you carried on in his footsteps. I’m sure Kelisia brought us together for a reason.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

The guildhall was nothing fancy. A small, stone building on the side of the town guard’s barrack. Inside was a small waiting area, a front desk with a backroom behind it, and a single private room off to the side. The hall was empty, so Hump rang the bell on the counter.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” a woman called from the back.

Hump glanced at the noticeboard on the wall behind the desk, skimming over various bounties and requests. As expected of a small town, there was little work for adventurers. A couple of bandit bounties—none famous enough Hump had heard of them—but mostly the board was filled with caravan escort missions. In Hump’s experience, those were the worst. Most paid by the day and expected you to provide your own food.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a woman said, coming out from the backroom. She was pretty, with chestnut brown hair that she tied up into a bun at the back.

“That’s alright,” Hump said. He nodded toward the empty waiting room. “Not had many adventurers show up?”

The woman’s lips tightened. “Evidently. It’s been difficult. Bledsbury’s a long way from anywhere important. Fortunately, the king sees some benefit in keeping the Mountain Road clear of any dungeons. If not, there’d be no bounty at all.” She laughed, though Hump thought it more a cackle. “Even so, few have made the journey.”

“Well, you have us now,” Hump said, leaning onto the desk and grinning.

She looked him up and down and frowned. Not quite the reaction Hump had hoped for, but one he had come to expect. “Are you a member?” she asked sceptically.

“Not yet,” Hump said, standing back and pulling the old man’s medallion from around his neck. His clothes had protected him from the cold bite of its touch, but in his hand, it felt like ice. “This belonged to my master. I’d like to have it rebound to me.”

“Let me have a look,” She said. He handed the medallion and she pulled out a mirror reader from one of her desk drawers. The artefact was a thin metal box, with a mirror on the front. Within, Hump knew it to be laced with all sorts of complex runes, but simply put, it allowed the Adventurer’s Guild to keep a record of its members across all its branches. She inserted the medallion, alone with a small heartstone crystal for a supply of essence. The mirror swirled in inky black ripplies that slowly gathered into words. “It’s registered to a Sethril Woodrow.”

“That’s correct. He was a wizard, like myself. He was injured in Carlton last week and passed away a few days ago.”

“I’ll need proof you are his apprentice,” she said bluntly.

Hump unclipped his book from his belt and opened it to the first page. “Here.”

“What’s this?” she asked.

“His spellbook,” Hump said. He pointed at the old man’s name on the list, then at his own. “And now mine.”

She huffed out a breath of air and shook her head. “I’m going to need more than this. A writ of inheritance, a will, anything of that sort.”

“Oh… This is all I have. His death was rather sudden, as you might expect in this line of work.”

She frowned at him, and Hump couldn’t help but feel as if she were accusing himself of something. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Without proof of who you are, we can’t admit you to the guild. For all we know you killed Mister Woodrow and stolen his possessions.”

“I’d never do that,” Hump growled. “He took me in as a boy. I can prove to you I’m a wizard. Hell, I could qualify on my own skill alone if I wanted to.”

She forced a smile and shook her head. “Not anymore. Until we have proof that you really were his apprentice, you can't undergo the trial of admitance.”

Hump’s stomach sank.

“That’s ridiculous,” Bud said. “How is he supposed to prove anything now that his master has passed beyond the Veil?

“Not my problem,” she said. “There is another option,” she said. “If you can have a guild member of journeyman rank or above vouch for your identity, that would suffice.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” Hump said. “Look, we’re here to help. We’re here to deal with the dungeon. Surely there’s something you can do.”

“I can’t bend the rules. I’m sorry, but they are there for a reason. Imagine what would happen if we allowed anyone with a dead adventurer’s medallion to join the guild. Guild members would be hunted down.”

Hump scowled. There was nothing but suspicion and loathing on the woman’s face. She didn’t even want to help. “Listen, lady. Don’t sign me up then, but from the sound of it you need all the manpower you can get. At least tell us where the dungeon is. We’ll do the rest without the guild’s assurance.”

“The information is for members only,” she said, enunciating each word.

Hump gritted his teeth.

“Then I could sign up, couldn’t I?” Bud said. “I’m a sworn Knight of Kelisia.” He pulled out his own medallion; the silver flame shimmered with a tint of blue that Hump hadn’t noticed before. “This should be proof enough.”

She leant forward and scrutinised the medallion, then glanced at Bud, frowning at the state of his equipment. “Very well. There’s a three silvers fee.”

Hump and Bud glanced at each other. Hump shrugged helplessly. A few coppers were one thing, but three silvers was serious money. “I don’t have it.”

“Then come back when you do.” She looked between the two of them. “Is there anything else?”

Hump held out his hand. “I want my medallion back.”

“As I said. Until you have—”

“Lady, the proof was to have the medallion rebound. Unless you have reason to accuse me of my master’s death, you have no excuse to keep it.”

She rolled her eyes and took it from the artefact, passing it back. “Is that all?” she asked tightly.

Hump snatched it back and returned it to his neck. “Yes. You’ve taken good care to ensure every avenue is closed. Thanks for that.”

“Then have a good day,” she said, leaving for the backroom once more.

“She was pleasant,” Bud said quietly.

Hump sighed. “What do we do now? I was counting on the guild for a map, and details on what type of monsters had spawned inside.”

Bud scratched his chin thoughtfully, then smiled. He took a small sheet of paper from the corner of the notice board, one that Hump had missed on his first glance. It read:

Dungeon Guide

Brave Adventurers, look no further for the best guide in town. The mountains are a perilous place for those that don’t know the trails. Trust me to take you to the dungeon quickly and without trouble.

For those interested, meet at the Standing Pony, North Bledsbury, at 10 in the morning.

Your Humble Guide

Norwin Gosb

P.S. No singing, I don’t care if you're a bard!

“Well, that solves that problem,” Hump said. “You might have a knack for this adventuring business after all.”

Bud perked up. “What really?”

“What, for finding a pamphlet?” Hump snorted. “No!”