The next day, Maiz was wondering why he’d thought this was a good idea in the first place.

“All right you gobling shits, switch!”

Oh hells. Maiz stopped his ineffectual attempts to hurt the unsmiling wall of muscle before him. Beside him, Hugan said, “I’m sorry!” Maiz looked around to see him patting another young man on the shoulder as he moved to take his spot. All around, other young people were doing the same, exchange a few words with their partners as they took up ready stances.

Maiz’s feet felt glued to the sand. He looked up--and up--into the unsmiling face of his partner. The man had a dark though neatly trimmed, beard, and gray eyes that looked disinterestedly back at Maiz. The shape of his face distinctly recalled that of a brick. A particularly large one. How is this... thing a Novice? He’s almost twice my height! And four times my weight.

The giant took a step forward, and Maiz swore that he could feel the ground tremble beneath him. Legs shaking, he switched places with the gargantuan Novice, and began to consider how to brace himself for--

“Begin!”

The first blow caught Maiz just as he flexed his stomach muscles. It didn’t actually hurt as Maiz expected, though that was possibly because the punch sent him flying back. Almost as soon as he landed, a calm voice said “Heal,” and Maiz felt better.

Woah. What just--

“Get up you lazy son of a saurian!” There was suddenly a sweat, screaming face filling Maiz’s vision. The man began to raise his hand threateningly, and Maiz scrambled to his feet, running back into line. As soon as he set his feet, the gigantic, bored-looking man threw another punch at Maiz’s stomach. This time, he didn’t go flying several feet, but he still landed on his backside. He sat there woozily, until he felt a sharp, unexpected pain on the side of his head. The blow was so severe that it knocked Maiz over completely, though he remained conscious.

“Get up!” The training officer roared in his ear as Maiz’s vision blurred. The sound injected some amount of urgency into Maiz’s dazed thoughts, and he feebly attempted to get back to his feet.

“Heal,” the voice called out again, and Maiz was suddenly able to stand, though he found the training officer uncomfortably close. “Get back in line, boy, and stay on your feet this time!” As Maiz stepped back into the line the man said in the same tone to Maiz’s massive partner “Don’t hold back, you hear?”

Maiz didn’t know how he felt about most of what he had done this morning. The running with a pack of stones on his back, the balance exercises made nearly impossible by the inclusion of blows from a heavy stick, and various other painful activities that apparently changed every day. He felt more tired than he ever had in his life, and he’d thrown up more than a few times. He’d come close to passing out as well, but the clerics were there to help with that. He’d already gained a bonus to his strength from the exercises. However, at that moment he knew one thing for certain.

He hated the training officer.

Yet he still set his feet, and mostly out of spite, resolved not to move another inch. .The training officer began yelling to Maiz’s partner about some fault of his technique. Maiz used the reprieve to look around, noticing Hugan on his right, taking consecutive blows from his partner with no sign of pain. That’s an odd way of standing and Maiz took the opportunity to copy Hugan’s wide stance, one foot forward, both knees bent, and shoulder held back slightly. He felt rather ridiculous, and thought that he did such a poor job that his stance was unrecognizable as the same as Hugan’s, but then he had a thought. Is he using a skill? If so… Maiz thought back to the way it had felt to use the Jump skill, as if he had been aware of his entire body working in unison towards the same goal. He tried to apply the same feeling to his stance, his feet planted on the ground, his knees preparing to absorb an impact, his torso holding itself in perfect balance. He felt something strange, like a word on the tip of his tongue, but he also didn’t really feel any different.

Just then, the training officer’s yells drew to a crescendo, and Maiz looked back to see another huge fist heading for his stomach. Almost wincing already, he prepared for the pain and shock of the incoming blow.

But when the attack landed, Maiz didn’t go flying. Certainly, the punch hurt, but he didn’t feel like he’d been run over by a dozen wagons. Maiz was surprised, but did his best to hide it as the training officer looked suspiciously at Maiz, then at his gargantuan partner. However, the punch had apparently met the officer’s standards, and he simply grunted and moved on to yell at another pair.

Two more punches later, Maiz was on the ground again, feeling like he was about to throw up. He struggled to his knees before one of the nearby clerics healed him again, then stood up and set himself in Hugan’s strange stance again. This time he noticed a definite feeling like the one he’d had using his Jump skill. He felt as though the use of each of his muscles was intentional, meant to bolster his defense against the incoming attacks.

Then three consecutive punches landed on his stomach, and Maiz dropped again. This time though, it wasn’t from the pain of the attacks. That seemed to be decreasing with every hit. However, Maiz was feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden, and his leg had literally given out on him.

Before Maiz could get up though, the training officer’s rage-filled voice rang out across the field of sand. “All right lizardlings, that’s enough! If you’re still hurt, make sure you see the clerics, and then give me five laps of the field before we start sparring!”

Maiz spent a half minute on his knee as the other Novices--over a hundred of them by Maiz’s estimation--began moving, either to see a cleric or to begin running. Other‘s also hadn’t moved from the line, although most of them were clutching stomachs and grimacing in pain. A few just appeared to be tired, like Maiz. is this from the stance I was using? Opening his Name Sheet, he saw that his stamina was down to 10 out of 70. He also checked his stats, finding that he had gained a point in Constitution. Finally, he reached his skills, where he saw what he had been expecting.

Skills:

The Mask

Printing

Shield Stance

Spells:

Flaming Strike

Maiz felt a flash of excitement at the sight of the new skill, and focused on its prompt.

Shield Stance(Warden): A stance which reduces damage and lowers chances of armor piercing, knockdown, and stun effects affecting the user. Effects are doubled when using a shield.

Rank: 1

Cost: 10n stamina per blow where n=(damage taken divided by user’s Constitution)

Effect: -10% damage taken

Chance of armor-piercing, stun, knockdown debuffs afflicting user reduced by 100*(user's Constitution divided by damage taken)

(Effects are doubled when user is wielding a shield.)

Maiz was very happy to see that he had managed to learn the skill just by copying Hugan. That was the first time he had actually learned a skill, and he was relieved to see that he hadn’t needed to ask to be taught the skill. That would have made acquiring new titles for his Mask ability extremely difficult.

“Get moving!” The training officer’s voice rang out again. It sounded far away, but Maiz did not feel like having the shouting man in his face again. Besides, his stamina had already refilled another ten points, giving him enough energy to stand once again. He walked to the edge of the field in order to let it refill more, then began running, attempting to catch up to the others who had already started.

By the end, Maiz’s face was warm, both from the extreme exertion and from the fact that he was by far the last person to finish the required running. He tasted bile in his mouth, though at this point he didn’t feel like he had anything in his stomach to vomit. He’d fallen several times during the run around the huge training field, and had been forced for a cleric to get close enough to call “Heal!” Of course, those spells didn’t do much to replenish his stamina, only heal any damage to his body, so it didn’t make the run much easier.

The others were already getting into pairs again by the time he stumbled to a halt, then shambled back to the center mass of Novices. Yet within moments of doing so, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see a tall, wiry young man smiling at him.

“Hi there, I know you’re new. Do you want to spar? I’m Jax, by the way.” The other boy had a pointed face, skin clearly darkened from long hours in the sun, and dark green eyes cast in shadow by the sun.

“Uh,I…” Maiz stammered, struggling to hear himself over the cacophony of other people choosing partners, “yes that’s fine.”

“Great,” Jax half-shouted back. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m Maiz.”

Jax nodded companionably, then motioned for him to move over to the end of the field joining a queue towards the sets of weapons racks just past the edge of the training grounds. Maiz had past those racks five times during his run around the massive field, though by the last they had already been swarmed by people picking up wooden approximations of swords, spears, maces, staves, and axes. Most Novices apparently moved fast: it only took minutes for Maiz and Jax to get to the racks. Jax almost immediately picked up a sword which looked to be a wooden copy of the type used most often by Slashers. It curved noticeably back on itself, and ended in a point which Maiz now recognized as being reminiscent of a leaf.

Maiz had no idea what he should pick for himself--the swords left in the racks all looked to be one-handed, and Maiz doubted his ability to lift that much weight. He also didn’t think he could handle a close-ranged weapon like an axe or a mace effectively. That left the spear or the staff. After a moment’s consideration, he picked up the staff, then quickly hurried to the side with Jax as more annoyed people pushed in to choose their own weapons. Maiz doubted he would have been able to actually hit anything with the point of a spear, and his odds of connecting with something were much better with what amounted to an extra-long club. Besides, he reasoned, not having a blade or point didn’t matter if he used his Flaming Strike spell anyways. The damage from that would far outweigh what he lost from the blade of a sword.

“Let’s go over there to get some space,” Jax said in a quieter voice, motioning to an open patch of the field. Already, there were dozens of pairs on the wide open space of the training field. There was not enough space to make the field seem sparse as the more an more pairs found spots to spar, but Maiz didn’t think anyone was in danger of an accidental blow from another pair either.

As the Novice began to reorganize themselves on the field--surprisingly quickly, as far as Maiz was concerned--he saw the training officer coming towards him. He seemed to be looking straight at Maiz, though Maiz doubted that was true. After all, there were dozens of Novices on the field, why would the officer want to talk to Maiz?

He continued believing that right up until the angry man got into Maiz’s face again. “You, boy. Your name’s Maiz?”

Surprised, Maiz nodded. “Yes sir.”

The man growled deep in his throat. Maiz wondered if he’d done anything to anger him, or if it was just instinct for the man at this point. “Got a letter from Mister Rin. He says you’re not to use that skill of yours in sparring.” THe man glanced down at a grubby piece of paper in his hand. “No Flaming Strike, got it?”

Maiz nodded again, dejectedly. He’d been looking forward to finally using the spell. “Yes sir.” The officer nodded, then walked away towards the center of the field.

“You should all know the rules, so don’t break them or else! No using forbidden talents, and you get a penalty for serious injuries. No killing unless you want to die as well.”

Maiz supposed that Flaming Strike constituted a forbidden talent. Ah well, he didn’t really want to burn Jax anyways. He seemed rather nice. At that moment, Jax was grinning at Maiz, getting into a ready stance. His sword was in front of him, braced against his other hand in a guard, and his knees were bent slightly, heels lifted off the ground. Maiz himself stood awkwardly, holding his long staff in both hands, but he smiled back at Jax anyways.

“Start!”

Jax stepped forward immediately, directing a strike at Maiz’s side. Maiz pushed out his staff to block the blow, but it never came. While Maiz was clumsily attempting to block, Jax had sidestepped, bringing his sword around to the back of Maiz’s head. He felt a moment of impact, a blinding pain, and then the world was black.

“Heal.”

The world came rushing back to Maiz, and he opened his eyes. Then he closed them again as the light of the sun blinded him. His head hurt, even with the healing, but the cleric had already moved on. Getting to his feet, he looked around, dazed. It had probably been only a few seconds since he’d passed out, but Jax was standing several feet away. He still had that grin on his face, but now Maiz thought it looked nasty rather than friendly.

“Thanks for the free win, goblin-brains.” He laughed, then turned around, calling over his shoulder, “I think I’m going to find that other new kid and beat the hell out of him too. Have fun hauling water!”

What? Maiz was still dazed. He looked around, seeing that most pairs were getting close to finished with their bouts. Plenty of other people were also on the ground, some unconscious, some clutching broken limbs, others simply looking exhausted. Maiz stayed where he was, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He’d put his staff out to block and… nothing. He realized now that Jax had been playing him, though Maiz wasn’t clear on why he’d felt the need.

Just then, the training officer called out, “That’s enough! Find a new partner, and be quick about it!” Maiz looked around. It seemed like all of the fights had ended. How long had he been sitting there? He still felt strange from his blow. Wait. Another fight? What had Jax said, at the end there? He’s going to do the same thing to Hugan! I should go and warn him now. Hugan could be a little ridiculous at times, but he’d been friendly to Maiz. Not like Jax, who’d apparently just been using him, but really friendly.

Maiz stood, though now everyone was moving around, looking for new partners. Maiz thought he could see Hugan’s face nearby, and he started towards the young man. Another Novice jostled him, and then another. They were all moving quickly to get new partners. Where was--

--Hugan was patting Jax on the back, smiling at him. The two turned, apparently deciding to find a space for their match. No. Maiz stood, intending to run up and warn Hugan. He made it a few meters when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Looks like no one else is brave enough to fight, so I guess I’m stuck with you.” Maiz was pulled back by the casual strength of the hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw a short young woman in the same tunic and pants as the other novices. Her hair was cut short, and her face had a layer of sweat and grime covering it, but she looked rather pretty. She had full lips, high cheekbones, and, most distinctively, striking gray eyes. Maiz hadn’t seen many people without dark eyes, and he thought they looked impressive. At the moment though, those eyes were narrowed, and the lips were twisted in a scowl.

“What’s your name?” The girl asked in a confrontational tone.

“I-I’m Maiz.” Do I have a stammering problem now? “What’s yours?”

“Lila.” She hadn’t moved her hand from his shoulder, and now she dragged him to an empty spot. Maiz tried to interject, thinking about warning Hugan, but before he could, she spoke again. “No one else is free, so you’re gonna have to fight me. Good luck.”

Looking around, Maiz saw that everyone else was indeed also getting ready to fight. He saw Hugan and Jax both getting ready, Hugan having found a shield somewhere and taking up his shield stance. He looked back to the girl, Lila. With a start, he realized that she wasn’t carrying a weapon at all. She was however, standing with her hands ready to fight. Her feet were moving subtly, in a strange pattern that almost made Maiz dizzy to look at. He lifted his quarterstaff, and used the shield stance skill. Can’t hurt.

“Start!”

Maiz half expected Lila to attack him immediately like Jax had, but she didn’t move beyond the strange pattern her feet made. Maiz didn’t feel an urge to try and attack her himself, but he looked at her feet again curiously. Is that another skill? Subtly, he tried to focus his body and copy the pattern the girl was making on the ground. It was difficult, but eventually Maiz thought that he had it. This time he caught the flashing purple icon in the corner of his vision which signified that he’d either learned a new skill or gained experience somehow. The entire time Lila had simply been standing, not making any moves to attack.

“Hey! Are you making fun of me or something?” Maiz looked up to see Lila’s scowl grow even fiercer. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and kicked at his head in fluid motion.

Maiz barely saw the kick, but somehow his body reacted, ducking under the blow and stepping to the side. Glancing down, Maiz saw his feet still moving in the strange pattern. What the--

“You’ll regret that!” Something flashed out of the side of Maiz’s vision, and suddenly there was a fist flying to his stomach. Again, however, he somehow managed to skip out of the way, dropping his staff in the process. He felt a twinge of tiredness pass through his body, but his feet kept moving in their pattern. This time Maiz reoriented himself more quickly, only to see Lila picking up his staff, murder in her eyes. She spun the staff in a figure-eight, creating a solid blur of wood as she moved closer to him. Then, when she was just within striking range, he felt a sharp blow on his shoulder. And he looked down to see the staff against his arm. But wasn’t she just spinning it? Maiz hadn’t seen her move to strike, but apparently she had.

While Maiz was staring down, confused, the staf circled over Lila’s head and head towards a spot on Maiz’s leg. He dodged that attack with his strange new agility, but this time when he did so the wave of tiredness was so strong that it sent him to his knee. In the next instant, Maiz felt a light pressure on his neck and suddenly he couldn’t move. His muscles locked in place, and he was unable to even keep his balance, falling to the sandy ground yet again.

“That’s what you get, kid. Don’t make fun of me again, or I won’t go so easy on you next time.” Maiz heard the voice, but he couldn’t turn his head to look up at Lila. What had happened? Clearly she had used some kind of skill on him which prevented him from moving. He didn’t hear anything else from her, and assumed that she had left already.

Hopefully the muscle paralysis would wear off, though Maiz was, surprisingly, not too uncomfortable. Still, best to see the time he had. He focused on the purple ‘V’ in the corner of his vision, and text filled appeared before him.

You have learned the skill Fast Feet (rank 1)!

The ability The Mask has triggered.

Opening his Name sheet, Maiz found the new skill in his list and selected it.

Fast Feet (Warrior-Monk): An active ability which allows the user to dodge incoming strikes. Can only be used while wielding a staff or using no weapons. Cost is reduced based on the user’s Agility and increased based on the attacker’s Dexterity.

Rank:1

Cost: 15n per attack dodged where n=(attacker’s Dexterity divided by user’s Agility)

Effect: All attacks perceived within half a second of impact are dodged if possible. Does not activate against wide area-of-effect damage.

By the time he finished reading, Maiz could move again. He felt as though he’d cramped up heavily, and his muscles felt a little sore--well, more than they had before Lila had used the strange skill on him. Warrior-Monk, I’ve never even heard of a title like that. The skill was clearly very useful, though the cost increasing based on the opponent's Dexterity explained why he’d barely been able to use it. Lila had certainly seemed like she had an abnormally high amount of that attribute. In any case, the training officer had already called a halt to the matches.

“All right, anyone who lost carries one bucket per match, you all know the drill!”

Looking up, Maiz could already see a line of dejected looking people lining up to take buckets of water from the stone building at the opposite end of the field. So that’s why Jax went after me. Getting easy wins from new Novices was probably a good way to avoid hauling the water buckets. Undoubtedly doing so would be intensely difficult for Maiz, especially since he had to carry two.

As he approached, he saw Jax exit the building, his face a storm of anger and embarrassment, and walk slowly off the field towards the barracks buildings while carrying a bucket sloshing with water. Despite the pain and humiliation he’d endured today, Maiz couldn’t help but smile. Nice one, Hugan.