This is likely the part where you expect to hear about misfortune befalling me the second I stepped out of town as if in direct response to that closing line. But, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I had tempted fate and fate declined. This could only mean that all my journeys in the future would be as tranquil as my three day journey to Platston!

Yes, you read that right, I’m doubling down! Bring it on, fate! I’ve got a Goddess watching over me, and you don’t scare me a lick! Ahahahahah!

Ahem.

Allow me a moment to patch up this hole in the fourth wall.

…

…

…

There. Now, as already said, my travel from Tattlebrook to Platston was uninterrupted by any sort of event. And, yes, the fact that it took three days whilst riding a horse I hadn’t known the existence of when receiving the three-day prediction from Auriel definitely solidified the omniscience of my new patron deity in my mind. Need to work hard not to piss her off in the future.

But, the lack of exciting, if cliche, events during my three day journey did leave me with an abundance of time to test out my new sorcery abilities.

On the first day, I spent most of my time just practicing summoning the power at will. I reasoned that, in some sort of situation that I might need my new powers (like combat), I would likely have little time with which to bring them to bear. Meaning that, any sort of exercise around using my powers would need to be prioritized lower than the practice of summoning them to begin with.

So I whiled away the hours working at simply bringing the sparks on my fingers to life as fast as possible. My day started with a lag time of a second or so before they would appear, but by nightfall I was able to conjure them almost as fast as I could think. I thought that was a fast improvement, but I’d no frame of reference to base it upon. There was also the question of how much the new runes atop my fingers were aiding me in my growth and casting, a question likely only my patron could have answered.

Regardless, I then spent the next day practicing simple manifestations when I was riding, and saved the more explosive and powerful stuff for when I paused for a meal (I had secured some simple rations on my way out of town).

By the middle of the third day, I had managed to form a number of what I thought were powerful spells. Now, allow me to take a moment to explain another key difference between sorcerers and wizards. Wizards cast formulaic spells that influence the world around them in carefully defined ways, leading to named spells such as Contingency and Open Greater Pact. They do something in a very specific way, and cannot be made to generally do other things.

Sorcerers, however, don’t attempt to change the world around them, they simply channel their power from inside to out. It means they have a great deal more control than wizards on what any spell they might cast could do, but they sacrifice the versatility and utility of a wizard spells. Even had I known how to cast either the Contingency or Open Greater Pact spells, there was no way I could have done so using the powers I had as a sorcerer, for neither had anything to do with the font of lightning powers inside me.

My font was a curious thing. On its surface, it appeared to be pure lightning power, as if I had been a normal storm-based sorcerer. But, deeper, there were hints of divine radiance that peeked through the lightning. I made very sure not to touch that part of the well - were I to start throwing around divine energy in the nature of a sorcerer, it would be a dead giveaway of my identity as a divine channeller. So I kept within the bounds of my patron’s elemental alignment: the storm. That was the facet of her divinity that had risen within me, and it was easy to pass myself off as just another storm-based sorcerer.

Anyways, I had created a number of custom spells that I felt semi-confident in bringing into a fight. I created three simple spells and two more complex spells, the difference being the simple spells were weaker, but quicker to cast and less draining upon my well of power. There was a reason for a sorcerer creating spells, I had quickly discovered. Though I could concentrate and will my energy to perform whatever feat I might require of it, it was incredibly draining and required intense concentration. By mentally creating a construct such as a spell and formulaically defining the procedure to manifest the associated phenomenon, I was able to, through practice, build it into something closer to an autonomic task. It was as if I was creating a set of muscles that performed that spell and then practicing to improve my muscle memory.

My three simple spells I could conjure almost as quickly as I could manifest my energy. I had designed each to handle a particular aspect of combat - one for a ranged attack, another for melee, and the third as a defensive tool. My two complex spells served a distinct purpose each. One was a more powerful version of my ranged attack, such that I could channel energy into continuously to increase its power, while the other was more of a utility spell, a way to effect the battlefield without blowing things up. Who could say what forms of combat I might find myself in? Perhaps I would need to perform an escape. The second spell was perfect for such a theoretical situation.

And so it was that I reached the town of Platston while considering further forms of magic that I might formalize into spells. I looked up from my pondering as my horse drew near the gates. Platston was a much larger town than Tattlebrook - whereas Tattlebrook had only a handful of buildings and a single town square, Platston had at least two major squares, one just inside the gates I was entering.

I passed through the gates unchallenged by the watchful guards, who seemed more on guard against monsters than any individual humans. The square inside was dominated by a small fountain, and various sellers hawked their wares around it.

Glancing at the signs around the square, I immediately hit upon a dilemma I had worried about prior to my arrival. When speaking of this town, Auriel had said I would find the adventurers in “the tavern.” She did not specify which tavern, and though I had hoped to find only a single tavern in Platston, my hopes were dashed. Already I could see the signs for two different taverns on separate buildings around the square. The Hog’s Head Tavern’s sign bore the face of a snarling pig, while Tavern On The Square’s sign had a simple square as its symbol. Both were open, and though the time was not yet late enough to account for a large crowd, I saw patrons move in and out of each establishment. Meaning that, in this square of the town alone, there were two taverns.

It made some amount of sense, really. From what I gathered eavesdropping on bypassers’ conversations, this area appeared to be a hotbed for inexperienced adventurers. There were fae of many kinds in the Lindon Fae Woods to the northwest, abundant ruins in the Sorlath mountains to the east, and primordial threats in the Bogdown Swamp to the south. Not to mention the numerous abandoned strongholds in the area from the looks of the map. Such havens were like magnets to bandit and monster alike.

And what better business to run in a town of adventurers than a tavern, the quintessential starting point to any adventuring party’s journey. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were three more taverns in this town. Which brought into question which tavern I was to meet this fated group of adventurers at.

After a few minutes of mental debate, I sighed and approached the nearest tavern - Hog’s Head Tavern. There was really nothing for it. My only hope was that my patron Goddess would reappear in my dreams and clarify my destination.

Perhaps my luck will make a difference.