Silence made it harder to cast spells. Lower level spellcasters like Barry and Jacky took a few seconds to incant for simple spells. Roen’s teleportation spell, even, took him a while. The Zombies were slower than walking speed, but not much. With numbers and their abilities, they were the perfect monster to distract the academy with. If this was a video game, Marc would have gotten it immediately. As it was, he was close enough to the situation that he didn''t see it coming.
“So, what do we do?” Mark asked, voice shaking, barely avoiding a stutter.
Roen returned to his deep thought, almost ignoring Marc. Nico stood still as Lloyd seemed completely out of it.
Nearly a minute later, Marc still couldn''t believe what he heard. Grant Roen said, “You three continue your mission. Tell no one you encountered these things. I will speak with the leadership here.”
“And what about the stranger? He saw us”
“Then he will know that we know. We’re prepared, and that may give him pause, or it may lead to him bringing allies. Whichever it is, we can raise the defenses and field our stronger students and alumni.”
Nico nodded, as did Lloyd. Marc had questions, but conceded that the much more experienced mage was probably right. The Hierophant began writing on paper using a charcoal quill, before casting a spell. The paper folded itself into an origami bird and flew out of the office. Nico was fairly well recovered by this point, and was starting some tea in a miniature alchemy station within the office. Lloyd was able to shakily make his way over to the others, still looking pale.
“You take summoning sickness way too well Marc.”
“Boon perks. Didn’t even get it from this one.”
Roen walked over and sat down with them, engaging in tense but lighthearted conversation with Nico about how Barry and the rest of the party was. Helen was out hunting to her heart’s content, Barry was having issues with his local faction leader, and Fray was planning the next big expedition.
“How’s that one person, Guy, doing?” Roen asked. Nico gained a smirk before responding.
“Well. He’s an adventurer now, doing some last minute preparation for the flood.”
“He have any interest in magic?”
“Some, but we haven’t talked about it.”
Roen asked Marc and Lloyd about Guy, who decided to play into the joke. By the time he had figured out it was Marc they were talking about, they needed to go back to the Guildhall and pick up the Philosopher.
She was tall, with light brown hair, and had a pair of goggles hanging from her wrist. A number of lightly glowing potions jostled around in the pocket of what looked like a trench coat, giving her every movement a slight clinking sound. She was a mix of world war 1 soldier and steampunk doctor, and she was apparently Barry’s mother.
After a quick exchange of words, the group left off, a cartload of ink lighter and a secret heavier.
<hr>
As the rest of the Root scurried about, getting their last heists in, the elf was plotting. Her “tithe” was already paid for the month. She looked at her ostensible allies, the faction she was about to betray. If she went through with this and succeeded, she could never join another thieves’ guild. If she failed, that wouldn''t be a worry for long.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Most of them weren’t bad people. At least, not for thieves. A few other skilled members were lingering about. Kal, the human who was also a member of the Adventurers, was busy sharpening his many, many knives. Flavia, an elven noblewoman, was contemplating stealing or purchasing a Historia. Theo and Lia, the twins with easily the highest luck of the guild, were working on their sleight of hand, trying to cheat other members at cards.
She looked down at the map of the city, bought from Flavia for ten leaves some years ago. The Canopy Ward was restricted to all but the nobility and their servants. Being in the Root meant that the guards knew you by face and name. She just had to go in when the guards were preoccupied. The map was one of few that had anything on the Canopy.
Her mentor wanted a showing of potential. He wouldn''t sponsor her to the Paragons unless she proved herself. The plan grew in scale and complexity quickly. From hitting the private vault of one nobleman, to raiding multiple manors, and now it included taking something from the Dryad Queen herself.
Stealing from nobles was one thing; she''d be punished, but not ejected. Doing so during the Flood would get her removed from the Root, but she might be able to join another guild. The Queen was off limits, the guilds patron and protector. There was no Root without the Queen.
If she didn''t make a showing during this, if she didn''t gain the protection of the Paragons, she may very well be assassinated before the flood ended.
“Hey kiddo, talk with him yet?” a voice shook her from her thoughts. It was the only other person who knew about the Paragon, being the person she''d needed to pay hundreds of leaves to contact the Sharoaa in the first place. Kal was one of the few Root members who''d gotten past the first echelon, largely due to being an Adventurer as well.
“Yep. We''ve spoken.” Any hint as to her plan would make it more likely Kal could hinder her plans, but the fact she remembered him, a master rogue, speaking with her meant that he allowed her to. She had, at least temporarily, an alliance with the Paragon. The two sat in silence with each other. Both had something they could use against the other, and both knew it.
He nodded, taking one of his knives out to inspect the new edge. It was an obsession of his, one that served him well as an adventurer. No one really knew much about him, other than him being from one of the nearby towns that was destroyed in a flood some decades ago. For how open he pretended to be, he had just as many secrets as they all did.
Kal stood up, lifting himself off the chair and announcing, “Welp, I’d best be off! Gotta work with one of them Fray folk on some Dire beasts before the flood. See you ‘round!” his chipper voice spread through the common area. She watched him leave, returning to her planning with the map folded up.
She would need to plan for everything. While she was an expert in pickpocketing, it was far from the only skill she’d cultivated in the decades of her thievery. She opened her journal, and a series of coded elvish symbols filled a new page, elaborating on the previous plans. Each one was more complete than the last, and the elf could only hope that the last one she made was complete enough.
<hr>
The stranger in white marched through the snowy forest, his ever loyal vulture soaring overhead. The trio that had slain the horde were skilled, clearly, but a large enough horde, or powerful enough undead, could destroy almost anything.
He sat down for the first time after walking since daybreak. It was past noon by now, and the snow kept falling. Once more, he missed home and the fresh bread he could get each day. As his companion spiraled down, he put his arm out as a perch. He slowly pet the bird.
“You miss home too, don’t you?” he asked. The vulture turned to him and nodded, appreciating being pet. It was smart enough to understand language, dude to the bond they shared. He took out some meat with his other hand. It smelled horrid, but the scavenger bird didn’t mind. He, himself, took out some cured meat and hard tack, and used a small knife to slice it. It made a pitiful sandwich in the stranger’s mind, but his mission was more important than his comfort.
There was no room for error, especially not so far from home. He was lucky to have been granted the opportunity to prove himself, and could not afford to falter or fail. Giving himself one more moment to contemplate, he turned to the vulture and nodded. The animal soared into the air, on the watch for any enemies unlucky enough to encounter the stranger.
He marched once more through the frigid wilderness, observing each town in turn, slowly circling towards Grand Vale.