"Boy, if I ever catch you again with your hand in-"

The alchemist's stern lecture was cut short by the little bell in front of the door, indicating customers had entered the store.

"Hellooo! How can I help you?" He swirled around towards the shoppers without missing a beat.

From behind him the assistant gave him a dirty look. Saccharine Sycophant. He thought to himself as he watched his master welcome the guests. He really had no respect for the man at all, his affected way of speaking, his servile attitude towards the people walking in and out his shop and the heavy authority he contrasted it with when bossing around his pupil, all stirred together into a syrupy stew of sad shame. He was thinking of other words that started with an 's' when his master demanded his attention.

"Boy, go retrieve the skinbark in the back. We've got another case of goblins."

"Hhm." He passive aggressively agreed to in an informal manner, and earned a kick to his shins below the counter from the old man in return.

A case of goblins. He couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a euphemism for goblin pregnancy, or just old man speak for it. Ludicrous locutions of a... of a low-life leper. Hhm. He wasn't proud of that one.

-

The skinbark, of course, had been raided for the deal with the thief lady. He had agreed to create some toxins for her under the table, and she would have payed him in return. But she had decided to instead just up and disappear.

He looked at the empty box, a few flakes of the material could be shook out into his hands. Not nearly enough for an alchemist to distill an acceptable medicine. The usual remedy for a goblin pregnancy involved poison, potent enough for putting an end to any normal pregnancy. Skinbark, being the cheapest poison there is, was his master's favorite ingredient for this. Unfortunately for him, it was also a key ingredient for mana toxin, used for fighting knights and nobility.

The young man considered how he would spin this to the boss. Perhaps he would believe that they had ran out a long time ago and he had simply forgot to buy more.

If only that bloody bitch hadn't ran out on me. Shows me for being a credulous clown.

"Out of the way, boy, we're going to need something stronger. She's two days in." The owner of the shop pushed him aside to get at the ingredients. "Wormstock... wormstock..."

The assistant sighed and took the material out of its place. By now he knew the cabinet better than the alchemist himself.

"Ah, there it is." The old man responded as if he had spot it himself. "Go make yourself useful boy, help the healer girl to the operating room."

Without much passion in his tread he walked back to entertain the guests. At least he had some more time before his embezzlement was exposed.

-

"Hang in there Angela, the old man knows what he's doing." The patient's friend told her.

The pupil tried not to roll his eyes at the statement. "We have a room in the back. Please come with me."

'Angela' followed him to the operating room.

"Ever been here before?" He asked, as he layed out the tools for his master.

"Uh, no. I'm a healer, you see, so I never needed to-"

"Please take off your clothing and lay down on the table." He didn't want to hear her brag about her adventuring.

"It'll be alright Angela." Her friend encouraged her.

"Excuse me, miss," the assistant said, "could you please go back to the front of the store? This place is for staff and patients only."

"R-right."

"Theresa. I'll meet you at the guild, talk to those nice kids for me!" The patient called after her, then she turned to the assistant. "It's not a very lengthy procedure, is it?"

"That depends." He said with wide eyes. "In how big chunks do you want the babies to come out?"

His master smacked him in the back of the head for his tactlessness. "I'm sorry miss. He's deficient, his parents begged me to take him in. Please lie back, we'll get the monster spawn out of you and you won't have to think about them anymore."

Angela hesitantly laid back. He wondered if the alchemist was going to qualify his words of comfort with some sedatives, or if he was going to make her go trough the whole sordid process awake.

The abortion process for such advanced fetuses wasn't pretty. An extended and extensive mincing of meat.

"Are these kids really that dangerous?"

"What do you take me for? If I say they're dangerous, they're dangerous, 'aight?"

"Okay, jeez. You're so touchy today."

He and his partner in crime were cooped up in a small closet filled with electrical wires.

"You'll have to forgive me if I come across a little excitable." He grunted, holding the headphone to his ear. "Things haven't been going swimmingly lately."

"Yeah? And whose fault is that?"

"Ssh. They're here."

The microphones buzzed with static as they started picking up voices in the apartment, on the 37th floor, two floors down from where the criminals were listening to it.

"Sanadora. Please stay close to us. Are we not a party? Let us move as one."

"Then make haste, heroes. The evil plaguing this city is within these walls.

His colleague raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with them?"

He gestured for her not to speak over them.

"Sanadora. The goddess never spoke of any-"

"Do not interpret the will of the goddess for me, apostle. I know very well what she has and hasn't spoken of. We will obey her will by striking at the root of- There!"

They had to have spotted the bait, a drugged out member of another vigilante group. He had the strength to stand on his feet, but not the presence of mind to do or say anything.

"That's the cue for the rescue team." His colleague said as she flipped the switch.

With the relevant elevator now ignoring calls from users on other floors it took the fast track to the 37th, perfect timing for another group of would-be crime fighters to confront the heroes with the subject.

-

"Who are you! Who do you work for?" Sanadora grilled the captive as they had hoped she'd do. The location was intentionally leaked as the destination address of a blackmailing item after all, in order to lure out one combative vigilante group.

The other group was lured out with a kidnapping and ransom note.

"You! Get away from him!" Was the call, immediately after the doors to the space opened.

The mastermind clasped his hands together, he had successfully put them against each other.

His colleague was less impressed. "You know we could have just booby trapped the elevator, right? ...What's that noise?"

"That noise." He said. "Is how they keep surviving everything I throw at them. Magical powers."

From the other end of the microphone the sounds of powerful gusts of wind, roaring flames and sudden explosions could be heard.

"No way."

"Yes way. Luckily, as it turns out, they've been effective in keeping undercover not just from the public, but from each other as well."

"Real. Life. Superheroes!"

"Well... I wouldn't call them-"

They didn't continue their discussion, as the building suddenly shook and everything was bathed in orange light.

"What was that?" She said flabbergasted.

"A bigger attack." He commented, putting the headphone against his ear again. "I hope it didn't fry the equipment."

But the voice from the other side could be heard clearly. "I didn't recognize you in that body. My apologies."

"In that body?" He whispered.

"Sanadora. It is an honor to meet you once again."

"Who do I speak to? I now know you are one of us, an old soul of the goddess, but have we met before, on another world?"

"It is Techrius, ma'am. We did battle with the bloodspawn on the world of Marm. My body was bigger then."

"Techrius, yes, I remember now. To think, my flames would have burned you hadn't I prepared a safeguard against old souls."

"What the hell are they talking about?" The male criminal exclaimed.

"I don't know. But I have the feeling this really backfired on you." The woman responded.

Scratch

"I mean, worlds, bodies, souls-"

Scratch, wake up.

"They're some kind of body snatcher alien species."

Scraaaatch. Your god commands you!

"Hhm, what?" Scratch opened his eyes laying in a grassy field. In front of him lay a small viper, despite its serpentine facial structure it managed to have an angry expression on its face.

You were dreaming.

"Am I not dreaming now?"

Yes, but it's a dream I'm in. I need you to come halfway you know, I can't just enter the deepest recesses of your mind.

"Some god."

Som- How many minds have you invaded, mister?! You know, I'm still very cross with you.

"What? I- What." He sat up in the dream grass trying to get his bearing and remember what had happened before he had fallen asleep.

We had a deal. You would protect my core from being found by humans. And now look. Humans. You didn't even hand me your soul so I could properly punish you for this.

"We had a deal?" Now he became angry in turn. "We did have a deal. The deal was that you would help our community. What have you done, huh? Made some monsters for yourself and dug yourself a bit deeper. And what are we left with? Protecting our home with some sticks and stolen weapons."

That... I told you to get more goblins.

"More goblins. Better goblins. Except as it turns out you can't evolve us, so we're operating on a flawed premise in the first place."

You would have gotten bettr goblins if you'd mated with a more powerful woman. That's the point of goblins. That's... why we have them.

"Well you haven't been managing this very well."

I... it... you failed to stop the humans-

He crossed his arms "Don't change the subject."

I'm not changing the subject. You're changing the subject!

"What happened to all that magic you've been storing up? This is your chance to make it right. If there's ever a time to use it, it's now."

It's not that easy... I need your help.

Albin looked around the shoddy encampment. For goblins, he supposed, it was an impressive fort, for any intelligent species, not so much.

The adventuring party he had hired went around smashing the mud huts and structures trying to find a hole in the ground. Even though the ruffians had probably never heard of him, he preferred not having his name linger in the region, so he went under a false name now, Gunther. As Gunther he had never heard of dark magic, or the secrets to controlling dungeon cores. He had simply caught wind of a dungeon having formed in the far east of the continent and set out to prevent it from growing. Purely out of altruistic concern for his fellow man. A few silver coins was enough for the adventurers not to examine the unlikely story to closely.

"What about the brick building?" Briar, the rogue, said out loud. "It could be build over top it."

Against the side of the cliff edge stood a crooked red brick wall, the little archway in the middle certainly made it seem like it led into deeper depths. A natural or unnatural cave system.

"Vell. Go on zhen." Albin pressed. "Lead zhe way."

"I'll go ahead." Said the heavily armored paladin. His name was Alexander. "Desmond. Can you kill the subhumans before your song wears off? I don't want any surprises from my back."

"A blind child could kill a hundred before my song wears off." The bard bragged. "Goblins aren't known for their resilient minds, you know."

"Then, just... do it." The paladin sighed.

"Yes, yes, und hurry up." Albin stated, as he followed the man inside. "Ve are here to slay a dungeon."

His impatience was born from anticipation. If he managed to seize control of the shard, it would grant him immense power. It was more than he had dared hope for, only a few months earlier. With a wyrm shard, he would easily transcend his former master in prestige, and once and for all show all those who had put him down. He would build a library of his own, and in time, join the ranks of the dark lords. But he was getting ahead of himself. First, they would have to get past whatever monster the dungeon had prepared.

-

The first room was surprisingly cosey. It was a wooden interior lined with various hides and cloths, illuminated by the cracks in the wall and the orange flame of a tiny hearth.

As Alexander poked at the various sheets with his halberd, to see if a creature was hiding underneath, Albin picked up a book that was lying open on the floor. It contained no magic or alchemical secrets, it was just a novel. He tossed it over his shoulder when his eye fell on a wooden hatch in the ground.

"Zhere ve go." He said. "It leads farzher down."

As the paladin opened the hatch, a flood of inky blackness shot out, enveloping them both.

"Ah!" Alexander screamed in shock, thinking he was doomed.

"No panic." Albin said calmly. "Zhis is a simple effect. Some elemental darkness to blind us, zhis is vhat a mage is for."

He waved his hand and murmured the incantation to help him visualize the form his mana had to take. It succeeded, a ring of light, roughly two meter in radius surrounded the him, driving back the swirling blackness.

"Wow." The paladin whistled. "What did you say your affinity was, Gunther? It'd be wind, right?"

"Never mind zhat." Albin said quickly. "Let us press on. Ve must find zhe dungeon core."

The concept of affinities propegated by the magic schools was needlessly restrictive. Spells created by the same deity often had some similarities, just by virtue of their effect, but the differences between some spells in the same school could be bigger than the difference between spells across schools. The dark mages, who had to hide their practices, where closer to the true nature of magic, eschewing all such categories and rules. Some even invented new magic. The abjuration of elements was such a spell supposedly, created by no god, but a human being. If he had been travelling with more knowledgable people he would have avoided using 'dark' magic in their presence. But the level D adventurer didn't seem like the type to see through his ruse.

"Killin goblins." Briar complained. "What are we? Kids? Here I was thinking this was a serious quest."

"Escort quests are serious." Desmond responded, putting the flute on his back and taking out a long knife. "We're professionals. There's nothing more professional than doing a boring job for the money."

"Yeah, yeah." He had wanted to vent with his party member, but the man had to be so damn reasonable about it. "Where are they? All in a circle over there?"

"Should be. I put them asleep trying to rush us, unless there were any too smart to attack us and hiding somewhere I'd say the whole tribe is in one place."

The two walked leisurely towards the roughly dozen goblins fallen unconscious at the side of the hamlet. "Slice their throats and throw 'em on a heap." Briar instructed.

"Maybe slice of the left ear. They're worth more this month, aren't they?" Desmond commented.

He shrugged. If they were going to spend their time exterminating goblins, they might as well profit off it. He grabbed one of the creatures by the collar and put his knife to its face.

"Stop!"

Reacting immediately, Briar threw a knife at the origin of the sound. The throwing knife struck the forearm of a goblin holding his arms protectively in front of his face.

"Des- They're waking up!" Briar called out angrily to his party member. He returned his attention to the goblin in his grip, wanting to kill it before it, too, woke up.

"Wait, stop, you don't know what you're doing!"

The other goblin had spoken again. Briar looked from him to Desmond and back. Desmond, at least, seemed to have paused what he was doing to listen to the creature.

"What are you talking about? What sort of creature are you?"

The goblin stood straight up, it was wearing an eyepatch and a crude animal skin outfit, it talked quickly. "I am a tamed goblin. My master is Clyde Beatty, a monster tamer, we work in this mine for him." He pointed at the brick walled building.

"Mine? You mean the dungeon."

The goblin hurriedly shook his head, eyeing the large knife Briar was holding next to his tribe member. "There is no dungeon. All we're guarding here is gold."

"Gold?"

"Why should we believe you?"

The goblin cautiously came closer, his hands still raised where they could see them. "The man who hired you. What did he say his name was? Gunther? That's a lie. How would he know about a dungeon so far away from his home country, and not tell anybody else, but come handle it personally? It's a cover story for stealing Beatty's riches, without having to share them with you."

"Do you buy it?" Briar asked Desmond.

"Not really... But it makes more sense than the other story. You, why are you telling us this?"

The goblin put his hands together. "Just, please stop killing us. I will show you where we hid the money, but please, stop killing my brothers."

Briar rubbed his chin with the handle of the knife. "If you're lying to us, you don't die a quick death, understood?"

"Understood."

"Then take us to the treasure."

As they entered the tunnel Albin could clearly feel a more directed flow of magic. This was certainly the beginnings of a proper dungeon, somebody had build it in order to fuel the shard. Either a rival sorcerer, or the champion of some evil god. He readied himself and hid behind the adventurer, whoever currently controlled it had to have some safeguards against it being conquered in place, traps, a strong monster at the end, that sort of thing. Albin's mind scanned all the creatures that could exhude elemental darkness, most he dismissed as too powerful, demons that would be too hard to control or would have made their presence felt much clearer.

They had to lower their heads and crouch through a very narrow stairwell. "I can't see anything." The Paladin complained. The abjuration circle was projected from Albin's body, who was behind him, and its edge didn't stop very far in front of him, so he was constantly face to face with a wall of blackness.

"Stop you complaining. Zhis is vhat you are paid to do, is it not? Now bring me closer to zhe core, it is straight ahead."

Not being able to see very far ahead the two inched forward step for step. Their path took them past multiple doors and through a corridor of sand, ready at any point for a monster to jump out at them.

-

Eventually Alexander stepped on some sort of crude fence, crushing it with his weight, and entering a patch of dry straw and bird droppings.

"Vhat? Chickens?" Albin was nonplussed, looking at the large poultry with hawk-like eye covering over its eye. "Vhere is the dungeon guardian?"

"Are we at the end?" Asked the paladin, clearly having becoming nervous from the opressivly dark atmosphere.

"Vhe must be." Albin stepped around him, driving back the darkness that obscured the wyrm shard. A crystalline entity lodged in the wall, with three long spines spiralling outward. "Zhere it is."

"Cleanse it, quickly, so we can leave."

Albin invisibly sneered at the adventurer. 'Cleansing', what a nice sounding word for destroying intricate and meticilously crafted spell weaves. When an adventurer 'cleansed' a dungeon core they would remove the echantments of its master, and render it inert. What he wanted to do was more complicated than that, he wanted to replace the current master of the shard, not a simple wiping of the board, but a careful rearranging of the pieces. It would take a bit longer than simply 'cleansing' it with a simple spell. "Cover me." He told the paladin as he put his hands on the core. "Vhatever happens, make sure zhat I am not interrupted."

Scratch had convinced the two adventurers to hold off on killing them for a few more minutes at least.

It's been years since I had to grovel in front of anybody. Actually, no, I had to grovel in front of that goddess person when I died. It's undignified. He didn't like compromising his dignity, but he didn't have much choice. Cyclophan had been able to wake him up, and inform him of all the lies the humans had told each other, but hadn't been much more help than that. When it came down to it, he had no power of any kind to rely on.

When descending into the underground the knife thrower had his hand firmly on Scratch's shoulder, his grip was painful and held the implicit threat of murder.

"Ahead just a little." Scratch said as the humans bowed their heads fitting into the tunnel. He planned on telling them the truth about the treasure, he and the evil god had come to the conclusion together that material wealth had the highest chance of putting the humans at odds with each other.

Ahead of him he could see Cyclophan's tendrils of darkness retreat to cover only the front party, for a being without the ability to see in the dark it had to look simply like a darker area in an already dark cavern.

"Candlelight." The musician behind them uttered, casting some flickering light on the path before them.

"Keep walking, goblin." The knife thrower commanded.

-

Before they reached the clay wall that hid the bandit's coins they passed Barbara's cell, from which muffled shouting could be heard.

"Help! Help me!" Along with stomping on the door. She had realized the goblins had been defeated and there were adventurers outside her door.

"A prisoner!" The musician gasped.

Scratch cursed under his breath.

A hand wrung around his throat, choking him. "Just mineworkers, are you!?"

"A thief." He gargled through the vice grip. "A member of the thieves' guild, trying to steal from us."

"I'm opening this up." Said the musician, grabbing the large bolt.

"If you want to split it amongst one more-" Scratch tried, but was quickly silenced.

"You shut up." The knife thrower hissed, as the cell was opened up.

Barbara stormed out, into the arms of the flute player. "Thank Rhada, I thought I'd never-" She froze up as she saw Scratch still alive. "Kill him. Kill them." She said panickingly.

"Hey, hey wait." Scratch protested as his capturer seemed eager to oblige. "Keep your eyes on the prize, she just wants the treasure for herself."

"Treasure? There's no treasure." Barbara responded with genuine confusion. Now the decision to keep it a secret from her was working against him.

"This creature poses no risk to us." The flute player said. "We might as well see it." He then turned to the prisoner. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Barbara."

"Barbara, could you stick with us? We'll bring you back home after we see if there's a treasure for ourselves."

She nodded.

Scratch grumbled as he was told to keep walking.

As Gunther did his cleansing spell, Alexander stood guard. It was hard not feeling a little nervous when he could see so little of what was in front of him.

All he could see was the intense blackness and the straw directly in front of him. Occasionally, a chicken or the wing of a goose wandered within the circle and was briefly visible, but the creatures seemed eerily comfortable in the dark.

His train of thought was shaken up when he suddenly heard somebody shouting something in the tunnel, the acoustics of the environment warped the sound and he couldn't make out what was being said by what sort of creature, but it was speech. He readied his halberd.

What came speeding at him dove to the side as soon as it entered the circle of light, dodging a quick stab of his halberd. Right afterward came a bloodied and used throwing knife just missing his thigh.

"Kill them!" Sounded the unmistakable shrill voice of a goblin towards the hidden attackers.

"An ambush!" Alexander yelled, infusing his halberd with magic in order to do form a line of defense protecting the mage.

Gunther, however, preferred a more aggressive approach. He had turned away from the core behind him and yelled out an incantation of fire magic.

A powerful spout of fire burst from his hands, next to Alexander's side, into the darkness. Then the light disappeared.

When Scratch led the invaders further into the cave, he grew increasingly despondant.

He had entered with half a plan, and ended up with perhaps a quarter. After getting choked his fear response finally kicked in and he realized he should have run. Set up shop somewhere further away, where there were no adventurers, no evil gods.

When they reached the clay wall he kept walking, what was the point in giving them the money? They would just kill him afterwards anyhow, then return to the surface and wait for their friend to come back from taking over the shard.

No, the money was no longer part of the plan. The only two elements that could still work in their favor were derived from Cyclophan's power. The first was the tendrils of darkness that still kept the two halves of the party apart and isolated, the second, he considered as they approached the end of the tunnel, was the benefit granted to him by being the champion of the god of trickery, sleight of hand.

He moved the throwing knife that had killed dumb from his sleeve to his hand, making it appear in his palm just as he held his hand next to his head, and used it to stab at the hand gripping his shoulder.

"Argh!" The damage was minimal, but it had hurt enough for the man to loosen his grip and Scratch to escape, immediately he dropped the knife and sprinted into the darkness.

The ward against the darkness was closer than he had estimated and he almost walked right into the halberd of the the third adventurer, only dodging it into the darkness by a hair's breath.

"Kill them!" He shouted. In a distant attempt to get the two groups to think the other was under their command. In the absolute darkness he felt the body of Tiresias the cockatrice and jumped on it to tear off the blindfold.

He dragged on the bird to pull it into the circle of light and threw it into the face of the magic user, who was shooting some sort of fire from his hand.

When the man turned to stone the protective circle disappeared and darkness flooded the two.

Almost immediately he could hear an aggravated "ugh" from the man again. He had cultivated his body and could not be petrified by such a weak creature for long, but the magic had been interrupted at least.

Then he crawled into a corner, hidden by Cyclophan's darkness.

As Barbara was followed the adventurers downward, she was tense. She wondered how many goblins had been killed, and quickly banished the thought. This what she had wanted all along. That she had invested effort into teaching Mac how to make candles or Linus how to read didn't mean she had to care when they died, she had done those things to occupy herself while she was trapped, she had a real life outside this cave.

The cave seemed unfamiliar to her after being locked in. Darker, somehow. Was there really a treasure? What else had she no idea off?

When approaching the end of the tunnel Scratch suddenly did something to the Rogue's hand and ran off. He grabbed the knife that was falling trough the air and threw it after him into the darkness in one movement.

"Kill them!" Scratch yelled, he sounded scared, but at his command a wide fan of flame burst out of the darkness.

The two adventurers shielded her with their body, the bard blowing a discordant note on his flute to supress their fatigue and the rogue storming forwards.

From the back of the cave the darkness came rushing outwards, enveloping all of them and leaving them blind.

Barbara dove to the ground and covered her head. She could hear the clang of metal upon metal, drowned out by the honking of the geese and the occasional sudden flash of light piercing the thick darkness.

Then, suddenly, the darkness retracted.

Human bodies littered the floor. The only seeming survivor what looked like a paladin was kneeling over the rogue, his own face heavily bleeding from the fight.

"What!? Briar!" He exclaimed. "What have I done? B-Benesant's bl-"

"No." Scratch said, coming up from behind him and swinging the bard's long knife as if it was a sword.

"Watch out!" Barbara yelled, her voice rising to a pitch it hadn't in years.

The knife struck true, hitting the man's neck underneath his helmet, but didn't kill.

"You-!" He grabbed the goblin by the arm and threw him to the ground, the knife stuck to the side of his neck. "Your vile magic."

Scratch struggled as the paladin's hands tightened around his neck. Then he gave an evil smile, lifted up his lower body and kicked the back of the knife with both feet, wedging the edge against his throat and slicing it open. Already gravely hurt the man lost his balance due to the pain.

Climbed on top of him and grabbed the knife by the handle, slicing his throat and finally killing him.

-

Only when the fight was over did Barbara realize how passive she had been.

She saw Scratch look at her. He looked beaten up, bruised, exhausted, weaker than ever.

He pointed up the tunnel towards where her cell was. "Go back inside."

"Y-yes." She obeyed.

Today, she had seen Scratch's magic.

Mage Class

The mage class is a versatile role, depending on the school of magic the mage has affinity to it can have many different applications.

Reddington's fire mages are known as damage dealers, dependable as mid-range crowd control to compliment the more focused attention of the kingdom's duelists.

Blurich's wind mages specialize in mobility, greatly improving the effectiveness of their vanguards by supporting their movement.

Similarly, Grenice's water mages are known for utility magic and the Yellow Field's earth mages for their ability to defend.

Adventurers registered as mages have access to magic training at the guild hall.

Graduates from a magic academy that become adventurers can be instantly promoted to level E upon showing proof of ability.

It is relatively common for history's legendary parties to feature a mage prominently among them. The means to travel to hell or other places in order to defeat a world threatening enemy is often a spell, in which case would-be world saviors benefit massively from having a member amongst them who can cast complicated magic themselves.