《The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer》Chapter 15
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Despite my eagerness to continue playing with my skills, I had a job to do. The next morning I grabbed a small rind of cheese and some bread to snack on as I stepped out of my house. I waved at the lookout for the local gang. I would have to pay my protection money again soon. Giving a wave as I passed would keep them from thinking I was planning to skip out on paying. Next time I paid the gang, I’d throw in a bit extra to get them to keep an eye out at the shop for any other watchers as well as a bonus for info on anyone who asked questions. They would still sell me out, I’m not naive enough to think otherwise, but letting them know I wanted the information as well would let me know if someone got curious.
Hopefully.
Stopping off at the dock, I hired a wagon man for the morning. We stopped at the rear of the shop to load. Triggering the magical unlock mechanism, I pulled the double-wide back door open. I pointed out the parts of the metal contraption I wanted to be loaded while I gnawed on my cheese rind and bread. It took almost an hour to load up the stacked pig iron construction into the back of the wagon and another twenty-minutes to haul it up to the fortress. The wagon man was drawn up short at the fort when the guard waved us to a stop.
“What’s this now?” the guard demanded as he snagged his halberd that had been resting against the wall.
“Delivering for this one then,” said the wagoner as I hopped off the back of the cart and approached the guard.
At the sight of me, the guard sneered, but he waved us through. Seemed, the rumor mill had gotten around to everyone finding out how I had been lying. Fun times. I could already guess the kind of annoyance this training was going to cause.
The back half of the mustering hall was paved with stone and had an inner courtyard with an overhanging inner wall. It wasn’t the best place to set up my gear, even if it was charmed to resist rusting, I wasn’t eager to leave it outside. But, I doubted I would have much choice in the matter. Looking around, none of the guards seemed interested in my work. I would do what I wanted until the Baron said otherwise, and if they didn’t like it, they could take it up with him.
The wagoner was paid to load and unload, so I leaned against the palisade wall and watched him unload the heavy metal construction. While I watched, I considered how I could make this training less frustrating. This contraption was one of my most often used devices. It was custom built to make it safe and effective at what it did, but there was still a modicum of risk involved. Worse, I could just see the device being ‘accidentally’ damaged one late night by a grumpy guard. It would be difficult to destroy the giant construction of metal, but it wouldn’t be impossible. Especially considering that a guard would be more likely to have a destructive skill than your average merchant.
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I rubbed my chin as I considered. Well, there was one option that always worked with guards.
Once the wagoner was tapping his horse’s back and trundling out of the fort, I began to assemble the device. Four metal feet rose to a flat plate of metal that slanted forward. The platform was soon surrounded by a metal box, and a metal seat was placed inside the box on a slanted groove. The door on the front of the box opened downward, and on each inner surface was a metal plate switch that connected to a front weight that would tip the seat forward and out of the box. Anyone sitting in the box when it was folded inward could escape by merely pressing on any surface. Doing so would cause the box to open outward like a blooming flower and tip the seated person forward and away from the device.
If I had been fully awake in the morning, I could have grabbed the ruined mattress of goose down feathers for the inevitable falls.
Typically, when training someone using this device, I would remove the switch panels from the inside. Then I would lock down the outer structure with metal pins so it couldn’t open, and attach the manacles to the interior. It was almost always easier to force someone to develop a Skill if they had no option to escape the machine. When I used it for my own training, I left it in its current condition. Unfortunately, I had long outstripped the extent of the enchantments on the device, and I had been waiting for a few well-paying customers before commissioning the upgrade.
A few of the guards were eyeballing me while I was setting everything up, and I knew that once it was done, someone would send for the Captain of the Guard. The Baron let him know as I left the day before that I was going to be training his men to be able to handle rough road conditions when he called for a campaign. Sure enough, when I leaned against the wall and started on the last of my bread, one of the guards disappeared into the inner hall. A few minutes later, the Captain approached me.
“Mr. Still,” I cringed at the use of my actual name, “the Baron has put me in charge of training my men in-” he began before I cut him off.
“No Captain, he did not,” I said while pushing off of the wall at the Captain’s approach.
My blunt refusal to accept his authority seemed to surprise the Captain. I doubted that many men had ever talked that way to him. He was large, maybe six foot three or so, and made of muscle. He reminded me of the Baron, and I would guess that height and size were something he respected. I wasn’t anywhere near his size in either height or bulk. I was strong enough, but my body ran towards speed and precision over mass.
“Mr. Still, I am in charge of the Guards, and I will decide how they are trained,” the Captain said as he tried to loom over me.
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“Good. Then could you send one of your men to get a wagon man? I’ll just pack up my equipment and head home. You can explain to the Baron why I’m not training his men,” I said with a smile.
This wasn’t how the Captain was expecting this to go. He was expecting me to bend to his bluster, and then he could order me around. That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t plan or even want, to boss the Captain around, but he wasn’t going to be ordering me around either. There was no need for conflict, but men like the Captain didn’t see things like that.
“The Baron has ordered you to train these men!” the Captain shouted as two of his men braced to attention on either side of him. Their weapons oh so casually pointing more in my general direction.
“Yet you just told me that you would be deciding how to train them. Either the Baron wants me to do it, or he wants you to. If it’s me, it’ll be with my knowledge, Skill, and tools,” I said while not budging an inch. I hoped it was clear what the unsaid alternative was in my statement.
Oh, everyone knew how to develop a Skill, roughly enough. It came down to practice. But that Skill Trainers were better at it was also well known. All kinds of Skills could help someone else develop a Skill, most professions had them. For the guard, [Weapon Trainer] came to mind, but only the Skill Trainers had gone so far into training the odder skills that the Baron wanted.
With a snarl, the Captain turned and pointed at Sergeant Baker, who was watching from the inner courtyard. At the Sergeant’s approach, I tried for stoic, but I wasn’t sure how well I managed.
“As I understand it, you know Sergeant Baker. He has been put on punishment detail because of security leaks, and so he will be your liaison while you train the Baron’s men. He will solve your problems and answer your questions,” the Captain said as he marched away, leaving me with the annoyed Sergeant.
Ouch. Lots of thorns in those orders. Nothing much I could to do about it, though.
“Good morning Sergeant Baker. I want you to know that I did not enjoy the subterfuge that was forced onto me due to my profession. My choice was to lie to you or risk assassination from the Mage Guild. I’m sure you can understand my position, yes?” I asked quickly.
The older guard huffed and grumbled, his mustache moving around his face like an angry caterpillar, but eventually, he nodded and seemed to let it go. I wasn’t fooled into thinking that he had forgiven me, but he was at least pretending for the sake of his work. Walking with me around the large metal contraption, he stared at it while rubbing his chin. When I stopped at the front, he turned to me and silently turned up an eyebrow in question. The eyebrow was how I knew he was annoyed with me still, he was usually far more talkative. It was when he went silent that you knew that things had turned sour.
“This, Sergeant, is my resistance box. I’ve used it myself, and with a bit of coaxing, the men can gain both [Heat Resistance] and [Cold Resistance]. With a bit of work, they might be able to gain something like [Hardy] or even [Tough]. Though, we should focus on [Cold Resistance] first,” I began as the Sergeant took another loop around the contraption.
“Sergeant,” I said with emphasis as I held his gaze, “to show that I meant no harm. Let me make a suggestion. I plan to turn this into a bit of a competition. Don’t bet against me.”
The Sergeant passed a look over me, and then a crafty look came into the Sergeant’s gaze. I could see the wheels turning in his head as some plan formed to pick up some coin.
“So how’s this works then?” he asked, far more interested in the proceedings.
“If someone puts their hand on this plate here or here, they can push mana into the device to start it up. This rune is for cold, this one for heat,” I said while pointing to the respective runes.
“Then all they need to do is remain seated while the inside of the box changes in temperature. I will guide them through visualization exercises to improve their chances of earning a resistance skill instead of dealing with the temperature differently. If they pass out, they will slump and hit a plate, and the device will shut down as they are dumped out,” I said while slapping an inner plate to demonstrate the device’s collapse.
“I’ve also had a rune of Nurses’ Blessing enchanted onto the seat to help, but it’s the weakest rune on the device. I wouldn’t want to risk my life to it,” I said while tapping the rune situated on the seat. I had that rune added when a particularly delicate part of my anatomy had frozen to the seat, and the tumble had torn off the first layer of skin. I was far more careful about how I situated myself in the device while naked now. Though, that wouldn’t become a concern again until I could adjust to an updated device. At the moment, the device wasn’t able to reach a low enough temperature to cause me problems.
I first learned [Self Awareness] while sitting in the enclosed seat, so I had a strange love-hate relationship with the device. It was truly a versatile bit of equipment.
“Well, Sergeant, what do you say we get a troop over to try the icebox, and we see who wants to bet on how long they last?” I said to his matching grin.
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8 277Valor and Violence
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8 99Changement : Version Pile [French]
Notice: This story is in French, not in english, mainly because of my poor english. I may translate it later if I get better, and hopefully I will. _ Les cris de souffrance résonnent dans ses oreilles, dans sa tête et dans son coeur. Cette dernière image, ces derniers instants, ces morts incompréhensible, rien ne sera plus jamais pareil pour Nils Nocquat. Il sombre, et dans les ténèbres, découvre la fache cachée de son monde. Qui est coupable? Démon, Ange et autres Sonen, tous se renvoient la faute, et maintenant, Nils Change, il doit faire un choix. Indécis, il lance une pièce. Pile. Il a choisi son camp. Il deviendra un Démon, le meilleur ou le pire de tous, ce n'est qu'une question de point de vue. - Author's note: this story is a concept. During the first chapter, the main character is faced with a major decision, which will change his life forever, and, not knowing what to do, he decide to play heads or tails, and let fate choose for him. And so there will be two versions of this story, one for each of the result, and their consequences for the main character, as well as all those around him. Here, he got tails. Note de l'auteur: Comme dit plus haut, cette histoire sera en français, car je ne suis pas assez bon en anglais. De plus, cette histoire est un concept un peu particulier, le personnage principal va se retrouver face à un choix décisif qui va changer sa vie pour toujours, et, ne savant pas que faire, il va jouer à pile-ou-face, en laissant le destin décider pour lui. Il y a donc deux versions de cette histoire, une pour chacun des résultats de son lancer. Lien de l'autre version : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/28318/changement-version-face-french Je vous encourage à ne pas lire les deux versions, ou en tout cas, à ne pas les lire en même temps. Elle sont assez peu similaires, mais des choses vont, logiquement, être répétées, et les confusions risquent d'être rapides, surtout au début des histoires. Dans tout les cas, ces deux histoires vont s'éloigner assez rapidement, tout en restant intrinsèquement liées par leurs personnage principal. Libre à vous de choisir la version qui vous plaît le plus, sachant que vous n'aurez pas besoin de lire les deux pour comprendre toutes les intrigues, elles sont absolument indépendantes l'une de l'autre. Le seul chapitre identique dans les deux versions est le prologue. C'est la deuxième fois maintenant que je publie quelque chose que j'ai écrit, mais ça ne me rends pas meilleur en terme d'orthographe et de grammaire, donc si vous relevez une erreur, où même si vous remarquez des incohérences, n'hésitez surtout pas à me le faire remarquer. Toute critique, qu'elle soit positive ou négative, est appréciée. En terme de rythme de publication, je pense sortir un chapitre par semaine dans chacune des deux histoires.
8 127Mordheim: Servants of The Damned (A Warhammer Fantasy Fiction)
“The Great Library,” Stated the stranger with a pause. “You know of it?”“Of course I do. In the Merchant’s Quarter?”“Yes, in the Merchant’s Quarter. I have gathered that there is an… artefact of importance within its walls.” Slowly, the figure produced a rusted key from the furls of his robes and held it in a black-gloved hand. “This opens the door to its chambers. It is the grimoire of Gunnar von Krugenheim, and I believe that it would serve better in the world than locked away in a dusty room.” Behind the cursed walls of Mordheim, warbands and gangs of all stripes are embattled in constant wars for resources and power. The cursed city attracts throngs in the thousands, searching for treasures, artefacts, power, and sometimes all three. The Cult of the Hidden Brethren is no exception, and when an opportunity to extend their reach is discovered, the cultists are eager to take the opportunity. However, not all is set in stone, and soon the cultists discover that the lure of power alone may not be enough to give them the drive required to see their quest done... --- Mordheim: Servants of the Damned is a fanfiction set in the world of Warhammer Fantasy, which is not owned by me but by the company Games Workshop. I of course, lay claim to nothing in this story but the characters I have created, and the core events of the story itself. This is my first true foray into fantasy writing, let alone Warhammer Fantasy, therefore any feedback is welcome. (It should be noted as well, the cover art is merely an artwork I found online and is not mine, therefore I do not lay claim to that either.)
8 111✓ | SOCIAL MEDIA (JENZIE.)
SOCIAL MEDIA. i might just be a tad dramatic. highest rank no.1 in #jenzie.
8 547Destiny That Binds Us
• An arranged marriage love story •❝ His soul was tainted with darkness,Hers was full of light.One without the other,they knew they wouldn't survive! ❞' 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒙, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕. ' • • • •It all started with a hug!"Hey wait--- I need you to do something in return!" His words sent chills down my spine, along with confused thoughts in my mind."What kind of help?" I tried my level best to act normal.𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵.𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙧.𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩. • • • •𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺?Peep in to know how destiny binds them together.#11🏅#Humor (208K)#8🏅#Lovestory (242K)#1🏅 #Indianstory#3🥉 #Arrangedmarriage(15.4K)#34🏅 #Emotions(28K)#41🥉 #Destiny(24K)
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