Two people slowly made their way down an ornate hallway. Stone windows let in the noonday's light along the passage, making the cracks and chips in the once pristine marble floor all too visible to even the most dense of observers. Dust lingered in the air, yet it had little to do with the suffocating atmosphere that emanated from two occupant that walked side by side.

The person on the left was a young girl who had barely left her teen-age years behind her and entered adulthood. Garbed in a regal red dress that hid way any flesh that a proper young lady would never show. Her golden locks of hair hung down past her shoulders and her eyes kept to the floor rather than the destination they now walked too.

The one on the right was an older man with a finely groomed amber beard and buttoned up tailcoat. His eyes shifted over to the young lady and back yet to the door that was so close yet still so far away. “Princess, you still do not approve of this plan, I take it.” He asked, his voice soft as to not give the impression he was picking a fight. They both held strong opinions on this topic, and neither where willing to back down. So he was endlessly thankful that the decision ultimately fell on the shoulders of her father and not the princess.

“Need you ask?” The Princess glanced up, the hint of scorn in her eyes. “I am no fool. I understand the war has not been in our favor as of late, but…”

She let her words hang in the air and the man understood them nonetheless. “The prophecy,” he said. “The Sage King was a great man in his time, and brought early Thelibeth to greatness with his visions, yet he could not foresee his own death.”

The princess understood these words well enough. No prophecy was perfect nor was the great Sage King, yet this prophecy involved more than just the wellbeing of Thelibeth. However, these words had been said, and said again, and she knew nothing would change this late into events by treading down that path once more.

As they neared the end of the hall, two guards stood up straight. Their faces where hidden behind dull gray iron helmets and each held a short wooden spear in hand. The door was large but unremarkable in appearance. Each guards took one of the two ring were the door split in two and pulled. The door resisted at first, then slowly it’s massive frame budge, until finally giving way and pulling in fresh air into the room beyond.

The man led the way into the room and she spoke over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry so much, Princess. After all the prophecy does say ‘In their left hand, they will offer prosperity and hope and will lead the nation.'"

The Princess lingered behind and stared at the back of the man, and could only give a small shake of her head. “How quick people are to forget the last verse: 'The hero will face the darkness and bring a new light to Thelibeth, and in turn shroud the world in shadows forever more.’”

***

In the darkest hours in the land of Thelibeth, when the restless dead crawl from their graves and the fortress of old crumble to dust, a hero shell rise. Four pillars shell support the hero.

The first pillar will shine a light upon the hero’s path and keep them ever righteous.

The second pillar will shield the hero’s heart and stand vigilant against the darkness.

The third pillar will strengthen the hero’s back so it may never bend from the weight on their shoulders.

The fourth pillar will shatter so the others do not.

Upon the pillars, the hero will stand above kings. In their left hand, they will offer prosperity and hope and will lead the nation. In their right hand, they will show their power and move thousands.

In an ancient forest and a city with no name, it shell come to an end. The hero will face the darkness and bring a new light to Thelibeth, and in turn shroud the world in shadows forever more.

***

Dave never had much in the way of friends, a few here and there, but no one he would see outside of school hours. Therefore, he spend most of his time immersed in games and stories, especially those that involved being sent to another world to play as a hero. So imagine his surprise, when one such world couldn’t deal with their own problems and needed his help.

Dave blinked rapidly to regain his sight from the flash of light that overtook him mare moments ago. Blurry imagines of a dimly light room, and the sounds of quiet mattering was enough for him to know something was very wrong. He took in a deep breath, remembering a piece of advice to stay calm in unknown situations and not jump to rash decisions.

His eyes adjusted yet failed to keep the same deadpan look his face was holding. All around him were gray robed men holding staffs, and the way they held them gave the immersion the staffs were more than just walking sticks. Torches where hung on the walls, yet he didn’t need them to see the glowing runes on the floor from where he sat. It formed a large ring in the center of the room with the robed figures standing at the edge of it. Several more runes crisscrossed from within, but as he was near the center he couldn’t make out what it looked like. However, with the robed man and the rune circle around him, Dave had a good idea of what was going on.

He was kidnapped by cultist!

Dave stood up slowly as to not alert his abductors that anything was wrong, and it seemed to work as one with a long ashen beard stepped forward. The old man started speaking but it may as well have been gibberish for all he could understand. With a wide smile on his face, the old man held out a hand.

Dave took in a deep breath.

“You’ll never take me alive cultist!”

And went for the throat.

***

The Princess and her escort quickly entered the room to the sight of a young man on top of the Grand Sage, whaling on the poor man with his fists, yet rarely hitting the same spot twice. The others in the room seemed paralyzed with indecision as they stood there like newborn babes before a wolf.

She sighed under her breath. Mages, great scholars with unmatched magical skills, but not much else.

The Grand Sage’s head leaned back under the blows and he saw the new arrives. “Princess Yseult, Prime Minister Julien, save me!”

“It would seem the fools cast the summoning ritual early,” Julien said, a hand rubbing his head.

“That they did.” She was almost temped to turn around and leave the overeager fools to their fate, alas they still had their uses. Yseult turned back to the door and called out, “Guards quickly, your assistance is in great need!”

The guards entered quickly and needed little prompting as to what to do. With the grace of professionals, they pulled the young man off the Grand Sage. The boy was young, perhaps mirroring her own age. With fair skin, pocked marked cheeks, a scraggly brown hair. The young Hero began yelling in tongue unknown to the Princess, yet by how readily he spat them out she was glad for this.

She looked too the Prime Minister who was helping the Grand Sage back to his feet. “May Khivohr show us mercy this day; our ‘hero’ can’t speak our language.”

“One step at a time, Princess.”

Her eyes fell back on the hero who continued his struggling. To her surprise the two guards, who each had a strength of eight, where having to use both hands to keep him in check. “I suppose asking for your name is a rather fruitless endeavor at the present time. Oh, calm yourself! We are not going to hurt you.”

As she spoke a blue status screen appeared before the heroes eyes. Yseult could not see what was written on it from where she stood and it vanished moments later. “What the hell was that?” The Hero cried in perfect Theliben.

The Princess gave a soft smile. This would certainly speed things along, and the one thing her nation did not have at the present was time. “Can you understand me now?” His struggling stopped as the sweeat voice reached his ears and his wide eyes showed he was giving his full attention. “My name is Princess Yesult Clericia Veil, what is your name?”

“Dave Richardson,” he said and jerked his arm once more, and Yesult could see the guard barely holding on. “Who are you people, and why did you kidnap me?”

The Grand Sage stepped forward. His right eye was beginning to swell and he was forced to cover his busted lib as to keep the blood out of his beard. “We have not kid—“

However, before he could get many words out, Julien cut him off. “Grand Sage, I believe the Princess has this under control, but thank you for your input.” The Sage took notice of the Yesult’s narrowed eyes and hurriedly stepped back.

With a nod of her heard in thanks to Julien and a quick breath of air, Yesult addressed the demanding questions of the hero. “I will not lie to you, Dave Richardson. Yes, we have kidnapped you, ripped you away from your home and out of the arms of your loved ones. This is a sin that we bare, and one that I hope in time you can forgive. But heed my words, I beg of you. We have not brought you here out of malice but out of desperation.

Our land is under attack by a vile necromancer that even now presses the Northern Stronghold to its limits, and if something is not done soon it will fall before the next frost melts. That is why we have summoned you here, we need you, Great Hero, to lend us your strength and help bring hope to Thelibeth.”

Dave looked around the room anew with eyes of understanding. What was he thinking, Yesult longed to know. What would someone who was stripped away from their home and give an a ridiculous, impossible, suicidal task think. She silently prayed to never know.

“I’m not a hero!” Dave insisted. “I’m just a guy from bum-fuck nowhere. What do you expect me to do?” As the Hero’s attention was fixed, awaiting an answer. Julien motioned from off to the side for the guards release their charge. Yet Dave still stood as if being held back.

“I can prove you are a hero, if that would ease your mind. Merely speak the word ‘Status’ out loud”

Dave rose an eyebrow doubtfully, but nevertheless spoke the word aloud. A longer transparent blue screen appeared in the air before him, yet just like last time she couldn’t read it. However, that was easily fixed. She raised her left palm to the young man and spoke softly, “appraisal.” Another screen appeared before the Princess and others quietly gathered around her to read it.

Name: Dave Richardson

Title: NA

Class: NA

Level: 1[0/300]

Stamina: 100

Mana: 100 Unused skill points: 15

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 10

Wisdom: 10

Endurance: 10

Charisma: 10

Intelligence: 10

Passive Skills:

Adaptation

Language: Theliben

Active Skills:

Yesult gasped at what she saw. They were all tens! Children who first gain access to the system are considered lucky to have a single ability score of five and must spend most of their lives training to raise their scores to ten. But the Hero’s abilities are already ten and he still has points left unspent. There were no paths barred to him, any class he desired would be his and he would be powerful indeed. She closed the status screen, to the dismay of those behind her, when she saw Dave close his own screen.

Dave had heard her plee for help. With the status screen, he had seen her words where true, yet uncertainty filled his face. He was ready for the final killing blow. She closed her eyes for a moment and willed herself to cry, not enough to draw tears but just enough to make her eyes glossy.

While putting as much emphasis on her eyes as she could, she reached out with one hand. “Please, Dave Richardson, be the hero we need. Be the hero I need!”

Slowly, a still a bit unsure, Dave took her hand in his. “I can’t promise anything, but I can try.”

“That is all that we ask.”

***

The next few hours where a blur of motions for Dave. If the people of this new land wanted to ensure he didn’t have second thoughts on becoming their hero, they were doing a great job to keep him distracted from such thoughts. He was taken to a room that looked like someone had vomited renaissance sculptures all over the place. From little pudgy man holding flowers, to bare chest women that acted as the bed’s canopy. The last of the days light had faded hours ago leaving only candles to brighten the room. After a quick bath, Dave was given a gray tailcoat suit with a white button up shirt to change into. The way the servants eyed his old casual clothing and quickly spited it away, gave him the feeling he wouldn’t be seeing them again.

He sat on the bed and tried to wrap his mind around everything. He knew it was too late to be having second thoughts now, but couldn’t help but to wondered if he could truly do anything in this new land with it’s strange game logic. A small part of him still question if this was real. If he had just fallen asleep in his chair like he use to as a kid. What would his parents think when they found out he was gone?

Would he ever see them again?

He shook his head to cast off the dark thoughts. There was no point dwelling on it when he had no answers. For now all he could do was focus on the reason he was brought here. Speaking of, he spoke ‘status’ aloud and brought up the screen.

He didn’t really get the chance to go over it before, to really understand what the hell he was looking at. Dave wasn’t sure how to go about interacting with the blue transparent screen so he reached out to it and was pleasantly surprised when his hand didn’t pass through it. He touched the first stat ‘Strength’ and found a basic explanation for it appeared next to it. Strength was about what one would expect, so he quickly checked the others.

Strength

Determines the amount you can lift, and a slight increase to your damage with melee and fist weapons.

Dexterity

Determines agility and ease of use with ranged weapons. Effects proficiency with dual wielding, including when used with blade and sorcery.

Wisdom

Determines your total mana pool. Helps you to stay focused and and helps you better utilize your collectivize knowledge.

Intelligence

Determines what spells you are able to learn and how powerful they are. Improves the speed at which you learn and reason.

Endurance

Determines your total stamna pool. Grants slight resistance to both poison and disease.

Charisma

Determines how others view you and how easily you can persuade people in conversation.

He looked over the rest of the screen, down to the passive skills. He currently had two ‘Adaptation’ and ‘Language: Theliben.’ Language was easy to understand, but the other skill. He reached out and touched it.

Adaptation

The more you do something the greater the chance to gain a new skill. The type of skill gain is influenced by the current situation at the time.

Allows you to decipher old world knowledge with a chance to gain a skill: Rare.

If He understood it correctly, by swinging a sword a thousand times one could get a skill. However, He did gain his language skill by just listening, so maybe he could also gain a skill by watching someone swing a sword. Though he couldn’t imagine a skill gained by only watching would be as good as one gain by doing it yourself.

From what he could understand, this world use a more traditional RPG system, similar to that of tabletop games. Unfortunately, he had never played a tabletop RPG, as that would require a social life, so he couldn’t say how closely this world stuck to this theory.

Regardless, if he was going to be saying in this world, he needed to choose his class. As he touched the blank class slot a notice appeared:

Notice: you have been granted the ability to redistribute your class and skill points a single time.

That would be useful. It was difficult enough picking a class in a RPG system he already understood, but with this system he felt like he was going in blind and hoping for the best. The list of classes opened like a spreadsheet before him. There where about a dozen classes on the list, all grouped around their type: marshal, arcane, or divine. However, no matter how much he looked, the ‘Magic Swordsman’ class he was hoping for wasn’t here.

He sighed, of course it wouldn’t be that easy. From stories, the Magic Swordsman was the best of both worlds… and it was also a rather common class the protagonist would take in this kind the genre. And he if he was set on saving this world, he would at least feel like a protagonist! That said, from looking over the list, It seemed he would have to do this the hard way.

Since he couldn’t be both a magic user and a swordsman from the start, he would have to mulitclass into it. For the first class he planed to take something with magic and hope that he could pick up the sword along the way.

He clicked on two of the arcane classes that he recognize to get more information on them:

Wizard

Wizards are supreme magic-users. Drawing on the magic of the world, wizards cast spells of explosive fire, arcing lightning, subtle deception, and brute-force mind control.

Armor Proficiency: No Armor proficiency

Weapon Proficiency: Staff. Wand.

Magic: able to learn any arcane spell so long as they meet the Intelligence requirement. However, they gain no spells as part of the class.

Sorcerer

Sorcerer are those whose magic comes from their bloodline or a pact with a powerful creature. Requiring nether spellbooks nor divine scripture, Sorcerers harness and channel their own inborn magic to unleash staggering power.

Armor Proficiency: No Armor proficiency

Weapon Proficiency: Staff. Wand.

Magic: Sorcerers gain new spells each time they level up. The spell they learn depend on their own bloodline or pact and have no way to learn spell outside of these. The sorcerer must have the required intelligence to use the spell.

The Sorcerer innate magic would definitely be a boon over the wizard from an objective stand point. However, seeing as he came from another world, he highly doubted he would have any form of ‘bloodline’ which would leave forming a pact as the only way to move forward. And while that didn’t sound so bad on paper, there was no telling what a creature of this world would want in exchange for such power. Than there was the unpredictability of magic he would gain. It could be the best of this world has to offer or complete trash.

With that in mind, the drawbacks of Wizard where mild by comparison. He would merely need to find the spell he would use, and with any luck this nation could help with that. With a quick tap of his finger, he confirmed Wizard. He was taken back to the main screen, but before he could spend his skill points to complete his character creation a maid entered his room with a knock on the door, ready to lead him away. The main event of the evening was ready.

The throne room was a large and open space, with spiral pillars that formed a singular path and drew one’s eyes to the throne and the men who set upon it. Dozens of people stood around and watch as Dave keeled down before the king , from arrogant looking men with the same type of suit as himself, to the women with regal dress that looked like they were ready for a ball. Inwardly, he sighed. The fashion here was going to take some getting used to.

The smell of fresh food carried on the wind from stone windows near the garden where even now servants made haste to get things ready. However, Dave did his best to focus on the two men before him. The one on the throne with enough layers of robes on that one would worried he was at risk of having a heat stroke, was King Gaetan Veil. His face was sliming with mutton chops sticking out from his crown. The other was a man Dave had seen already, Prime Minister Julien, stood next to the king with his arms resting behind his back.

“A shadow has spread over our dear land, one that festers while we aristocrats bicker here in the capital,” King Gaetan said. His voice far deeper than one would expect. “But the gods have heard us and sent us a Hero in our time of need! Speak, Sir Dave Richardson, and tell us why you have come.”

Dave rose his head and spoke as instructed. “I have come to be the shield that protects the people of Thelibeth. I have come to be the sword that cuts down the foul darkness that threatens the land. I pledge to save Thelibeth and bring light to the land once more!” He let out a quiet breath as he manged to get everything out without tripping over his own tongue.

The King gave a sidewards glance at the Prime Minister, who took the queue and spoke next, “On behalf of the people of Thelibeth, the Senate accepts Dave Richardson as the Hero.”

“On behalf of the Royalty and as protector of these lands— as poor as I may be in these times— we accept Dave Richardson as the Hero of this nation! Now, lad, raise so that everyone may see you.”

Dave rose to his feet at the King’s gesture to the sounds of echoing applause.

Magical orbs floated in the air, shining soft light down on the garden and banishing the night away. A large edifice of spirally shrubs, that if not for the singular path to the wide open center would be more of a maze. Tables where place sparingly around the area, leaving much of the area open for people to talk and mingle.

Dave sat at a table on his own, trying to will himself to eat a plate of food, the occasional servant passing with yet more food would catch his eyes. He placed a red chunk of meat into his mouth, it’s juices flowing generously, and tasted like sausage. It didn’t matter what the other guest where doing, or where in the garden they found themselves, eventually everyone’s eyes wondered over to Dave. Some only gave sneak peaks when they thought he wasn’t looking, while others had no qualms with staring.

Dave, for his part, just focused on quelling the rumbling in his stomach. Despite all their staring, there were few people actually willing to come speak to him. Not that he was bothered by it. Dave was never much of a social speaker with the people from his own town, but now that he was in a new world he was drawing a blank on what to say.

Trying not to dwell on it, he picked up a cup and snip the red liquid. It didn’t have the same bitter taste as other wine he had, so he wasn’t sure if this was alcoholic or not.

“I do hope the food is to your taste.” Dave looked up to see the Prime Minister approaching with a drink in hand. He took a seat across from Dave with a humble smile on his face. “I’m glad to see the cloths fit you. I was a bit worried my size was too big.”

“It is a little lose in spots, but nothing I can’t get used to.” The sight of a passing waiter caught Dave’s eye and he looked over for a moment to see him be intercepted by a round man with a drooling tongue.

“I do apologize. All of this must be so overwhelming for you.” Julien’s eyes grew a bit softer.

“Yes… but I’m doing my beast to adjust. Today has just been eventful.”

“More than most I’m sure, we wanted to get all of the formalities out of the way as fast as possible, so that you may begin your training as a hero. But I suppose you will have plenty of time for that come the morning, but for now, tell me how are you enjoying the party?”

Dave stabbed another piece of meat with a fork and showed it off. “Quite well.” He said and popped it into his mouth.

Julien nodded. “I do hope you part take in more than just the food. Many of the guest have come out on such sort notice for this event in hopes of speaking with you.”

Dave couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair bashfully. It seemed silly now that he gave it more thought. “I wouldn’t really no what to say.”

“Than how about you practice with me. Tell me, have you chosen a class yet?”

“Oh yes,” Dave said as the words seemed to flow naturally. “I chose wizard as my first class. I don’t suppose you know where I could learn spell?”

Julien smiled at that. “Grand Sage Mehdi will be delighted to hear that. And you should speak to him about any spells.”

Dave racked his brain trying to place the name of ‘Grand Sage’ until an image of the old man he first met when he arrived and how quickly Dave introduced him to his fist. He decided to change the topic to something less awkward.

“I have a good idea of how I want my build to go for my class, but I’m worried that I’ll spend my points too wide, and I’ll become too weak in the end.”

The share mirth that filled Julien’s face was enough to tell him that something was clearly off in his calculations. “I have seen your status screen myself, and I can assure you that will not be a problem.”

“How can you be sure?” Dave asked, wanting to be let in on whatever piece of information he was clearly missing.

“Why don’t you see for yourself. Cast appraisal on me, if you would.” At the dumbfounded look Dave gave off, a look of realize flash in his eyes. “Oh, my apologies. I forget that someone from another world may not know about something we take for granted. Status and Appraisal are both a type of general magic that any class can cast. Much like how status lets you look at your own status screen, Appraisal lets you look at the screens of other people. Merely point your palm toward me and give it a try.”

Intrigued Dave followed his direction and soon a screen appeared before him, but this time it wasn’t his own.

Name: Julien Prévost

Title: Prime Minister

Class: Archer

Level: 6 [600/14000]

Stamina: 40

Mana: 60 Unused skill points: 0

Strength: 3

Dexterity: 7

Wisdom: 6 (+2)

Endurance: 4

Charisma: 9 (+4)

Intelligence: 5

Passive Skills:

Speed reader

Active Skills:

Long Shot

For a moment Dave wasn’t sure what to say. Julien’s stats were so low. The fact that he had anything in Charisma was surprise enough, but than again he was a politician. Dave turned towards the other people in the party and began casting appraisal one after the other. Most people stat’s didn’t rise above 5, and a few of the senators in the crowd didn’t even have a Charisma skill above 3, which made him wonder how in the world they got into office.

The only notable executions where the guards around the area who all had stats above 5 with most in the 6 or 7. However, that was only for Strength, Dexterity, and Endurance depending on their class, the rest of their stats were just as bad as everyone else.

“Wow,” was all Dave could muster at this sad showing. He didn’t think his own stats where that hight to began with, but compared to this he really was a hero.

“As you can see,” Julien said with a chuckle, bring the topic back around. “No matter how you spend your points, rest assure you will not be weak.”

Without any farther delay, Dave opened the status screen and touched ‘Unused Skill Points.’

Dexterity and Wisdom were clearly going to be the core stats while he should be find leaving the others at 10. Dave’s eyes fell down to Charisma. Unlike the other stats this one didn’t have any direct combat application that he could see. Nevertheless, as a hero he knew he had to act to inspire other… or would that just be a waste of skill points?

He looked around and weighted the pros and cons of Charisma in his mind when he spotted Princess Yseult standing with her father among a small crowd. She was cute. No, beautiful. Their eyes locked and she gave me a short wave. Dave waved back, feeling a foolish flutter in my stomach before remembering what he was doing.

Name: Dave Richardson

Title: NA

Class: Wizard

Level: 1[0/300]

Stamina: 100

Mana: 160 Unused skill points: 0

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 13

Wisdom: 16

Endurance: 10

Charisma: 12

Intelligence: 14

Passive Skills:

Adaptation

Language: Theliben

Active Skills:

Inspiring others in the days to come would be important, so investing in Charisma wasn’t a bad idea. Besides it was only two points.

“You know, Richardson, longing eyes are charming for a young lad, but not so much for a hero.”

“What?” Dave asked, dismissing the status screen.

He nodded in the direction of the Princess with a knowing smirk. “You don’t intend for her to come to you, do you?”

“Of cause not,” Dave said perhaps a bit too quickly. He stood up and gave a half bow, trying his best to pretend to have some manners. “Thank you for the talk, but I should greet the other guest as well.” Julien just nodded and watched him go.

***

Princess Yseult stood next to her father and a crowd of others, as a two-chinned senator regaled everyone with a tale she had heard several times by now. So she knew her father had likely heard it hundreds more. As the droning conversation carried, she couldn’t help but ponder. As the war dragged on, so many times has the royal family asked the the senators directly for aid with food and soldiers from their own lands, yet so many times have the senators come up with one urgent matter after another as to why they can’t help. However, at a party to welcome the hero to their lands, with barely half a days notice, senators from all over the capital have shown with their wifes in tow, funny how that was.

Yseult silently wondered how much more of this fat fools tale she was going to have to listens to this evening, when she spotted the hero approaching. Dave Richardson, her perfectly formed complexion nearly grimaced at such a name. It wasn’t bad, per say, but it was so commen and unfit for such a prestigious position of Hero. At least Richardson had a respectable air about it.

Leaving his name a side, Yseult still wasn’t sure what to make of him. Her first impression had been one of a frightened boy, yet she knew that could just as well have been due to the resend summoning. A devilish smile spread across her face. However, now was a good time to get a gage of his character.

She waited a moment for when the senator was between breaths as to not cut him off. Her voice rose a few octaves as she said, “That may be so, but I wander what our dear Hero has to say about that?” She turned toward Richardson and a dozen others followed her gaze. The boy froze under the gaze of so many. “Senator Lucrèce has been rather reluctant with helping in the war. From the little things like shipments of wheat being lower than that we asked for, to the more recent incident where he tried to swindle his people out of the draft. Dear, Hero, how would you deal with this?”

Yseult could almost see the way his mind was frantically looking for an answer, their was so little hidden on his face. It was adorable in a way. Sad, but adorable. When he finally spoke he seemed to have some confidence in his voice at least.

“I’m afraid I can’t give an answer to something like this without knowing more from Senator Lucrèce himself.”

King Gaetan slowly nodded his head, and Yseult had to agree. It was a non answer, but not a bad one. When one is in the dark about politics it’s usually better to stay natural in such matters. The Princess stepped forward and gave a dainty hand for him to take as she said, “It is good to see our hero is not quick to damn others. I could use a bit of a refreshment, so would you care to walk with me.”

Richardson accepted the hand and allow the Princess to lend the way. It was but a short walk in silence for the two to the table of confectioneries and drinks, yet Yseult knew by the open way Richardson’s hand was held in hers she would draw many jealous eyes from the factions that opposed the royalty. She took two of the ready filled drinks on the table and handed one to her guest.

She blinked a few times as he took the offered drink, almost oblivious to the gray eyes that narrowed at him. There was something strange about him. She thought of him as nothing more than a lost boy early that day, but that seemed foolish now. “You seem different from when I saw you earlier today,” she spoke her thoughts aloud. “And I can’t put my finger on why.”

“I suppose I’m just adjusting to his new world.” He said, yet this time Richardson seem to notice her look and continued on. “You don’t need to worry now that I’m here. I’ll have this war wrapped up in a week.”

The soft cute smile slipped from Yseult’s face and a hard expression replaced it. A week—The war hand been going on for over three years now, yet this fool would end it in a week. For a moment she wanted to berate him for the remark, to curse him for being a foul jester, yet as she stared at his face filled with youthful bravado, she realized it was not with malice that he spoke.

“Dav… Richardson, You don’t have necromancers in your world do you?” Her slow methodical tone gave Him pause, but Yseult did not give him time to answer. “No, I didn’t think so, or you would know how he profanes the dead and forces them to serve in his army. How he delights in nothing more than watching the bodies of parents cut down their children. How his army needs nether food nor rest, attacks in endless waves of attrition that a mortal army can never hope to match or withstand. How even the very land that necromancer now occupies grows corrupted, requiring decades of holy magic to purify so even the bare minimum of food may grow there again. Do you truly believe you can end this war in a weeks time?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“No, I did not believe so. I’ve lost my appetite so I will be turning in early today, but do enjoy the party.”

Yseult left him standing there. Unsure what else could be said and fearing making a public scene. She shook her head and gave a silent pry, “Oh Khivohr show your blessing on Thelibeth, for with a hero like this I fear we will need it.”