An Assassin's Anthem

The rain poured, and the trees swayed. Riley quivered and woke. Groaning, he stretched. His body was not happy. His muscles burned, and his damp clothes clung to his body. Reaching down, he massaged his numb legs while checking his notifications.

[Activity experience granted to Assassin, Bard, Ranger, and Spell Thief.]

[Ranger has advanced 23 → 24!]

[Spell Thief has advanced 16 → 23!]

Roger shifted and stretched. “Think it’ll snow?”

“I wish. It’d be warmer.” Riley shivered under the damp blanket. “Do you get sick at your level?” He reached for his waterskin and took a quick drink.

“It’s possible, but it is rare.” Roger reached into his bag. “I’m going to take a moment to change my disguise to Caravan Guard. Then we’ll join one in the next city. We can use the wagons for shelter instead of dealing with this.”

Riley massaged his legs. “South?”

“Yes. We’ll head toward the capital and then cut west.” Roger glanced at his son, and a crooked smile spread across his face. “You have facial hair. I was wondering if this day would ever come.”

Riley reached up and felt scruff. The rough hairs felt like little knives on his fingers. He jerked his hand away.

Roger frowned at the reaction. “Hmm. I thought you’d be excited.”

“I don’t think facial hair is my thing.” Riley looked at the ground. Why does it bother me?

Roger patted his shoulder. “That is just fine. Be who you are. That’s the purpose of life. Help me out?” He held out a knife.

Riley took it and turned, eyeing the beard that was about to go. “Anything left?”

Roger nodded. “Mustache.”

“How big? Style?”

“Thick but easily maintained.” Roger gestured, using his hands to draw it.

“Got it.” Riley cut off the extra length and started a precise shave, leaving the sideburns down to the jaw.

Riley carefully cut the last of it away and studied. It seemed alright. “Want a hair trim?”

“Yes. Do you?” Roger asked.

“No,” Riley replied quickly. Reaching up, he rapidly pulled his hair up and pinned it in place. Then he picked up the knife and turned back, eyeing his father’s hair. “How long?”

“Go with the standard cut.” Roger gestured, leaving three centimeters.

Riley nodded and carefully cut it. Then he handed the knife back.

“Sorry to make you sleep out here,” Roger said as he stood. “Appearing in the night was too risky. How are your limbs?”

“It’s hard to tell. They’re mushy and numb,” Riley admitted and grabbed his pack. Then he turned back. “Will they want me there? As me?”

Roger let out a long breath. “I’m sorry to ask you to do this, but you’ll need a disguise, and you’ll be using it a lot. So, pick one that will last.”

Riley kicked at the dirt. “How bad would it be for me to be me?”

“As a half-elf? It won’t work. The kingdom won’t accept that.” Roger placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Sorry. You know.”

Riley nodded. “The wars.” He shivered and looked up.

“Yes.” Roger stood and extended his hand. “We need to get going. Push those magic skills again. Keep messing with this rain, and burn your resources before nightfall; it’ll increase the experience you get.”

Riley grabbed his hand and stood. He followed out into the rain; it pattered on his soaking cloak.

Roger grinned. “One more run. Tell you what. We’ll race. I’ll wager you a book.”

Riley didn’t wait to hear the rest of it. He bolted across the meadow, splashing water and mud as he raced toward the south.

~~~

Riley was soaked as he jogged up to the south gate of Uthive. He shivered and looked in at the larger city. There were cottages and buildings everywhere, but the puddle-filled streets were empty.

Looking at the guard station with a blazing fire, Riley ran straight toward it.

“Business?” a guard shouted from his post, the rain running off its clay roof.

Riley skidded to a halt and wiped off the water. He scooted closer to the fame.

“Looking for work,” Roger shouted as he jogged up. “And getting out of this mess.”

The guard stepped back from the window. “You’re soaked.”

Riley blinked through the water, exhaling and sending mist spraying out onto the fire. “Can we come in, please? We need an inn.”

“Just up the street,” the guard said sympathetically. “You can check with the guild to see if any shipments are going through.”

“Thanks.” Roger walked up the street towards the two-story building.

Riley shivered and followed him up to the door. Then he walked inside, dripping water all over the wooden floor. With a smile, he happily followed his father to a table next to the blazing fire.

“You don’t mind sharing, do you?” Roger asked the group near the fire.

“Sit someplace else,” a toothless man replied with a glower.

Roger scowled. “Oh, come on now. My boy’s on the brink of catching something.”

“Don’t care.”

“Gods judge you,” Roger growled. Then he turned and headed towards the empty table.

“You can have a spot here,” a woman with black hair called from the bench near the fire. She gestured and slid down.

Roger nodded. “Much obliged.”

Riley sat on the wooden bench, leaning against the log wall. Then he turned focus inward to his swirling spirit. He connected and embraced his flowing spirit. Expanding it outward, he slowly pushed at the dripping water, trying to do it without spending any mana.

Roger looked over as the sound of dripping increased. Rivulets ran down Riley. They dripped onto the wooden floor, forming a large puddle.

A large, bald man in an apron approached.

Roger gave him a nod. “Hello, Innkeep. We’d like some breakfast if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Certainly,” the man said. “Four sil each.”

“Two,” Roger replied.

“Four, or you need to leave.” The innkeeper scowled and gestured to his crowded establishment.

Roger sighed and pulled out eight coins, dropping them into the innkeeper’s hand.

“Gods, your boy got drenched.” The innkeeper looked down at the large puddle forming on the floor. “How bad is it out there?”

“It’s very heavy right now,” Roger wiped the water off his face. “Hopefully, it will break soon. It’s been going long enough.”

“Did it look it?” the innkeeper probed.

Roger scoffed and shook his head.

“Good for me then.” The innkeeper chuckled and walked back towards the kitchen.

Roger turned. Riley was sitting there with his eyes shut. The water had puddled under his feet. Roger wiped away a stream that gushed down his face. It streamed out of his hair and down his head. He began wiping it away while Riley pushed it off him.

“Here you are,” the innkeeper said as he held out bowls.

Roger took both and bumped his son.

Riley snapped out of the meditative state and took the bowl of soup. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The innkeeper headed back towards the kitchen.

Riley grabbed the spoon and took a bite. The taste of dirt hit his tongue. He grimaced and gagged a little. “What level is he? Did he reset his class?”

Roger coughed and groaned. “It sure tastes like it. At four sil a bowl, it’s plain robbery.” He forced another bite down. “Gods.”

“I think he used old stuff because of the storm,” the woman beside them replied.

“I think he used dirt instead of food,” Riley replied, slumping against the wall. He forced himself to eat a few more bites.

The woman chuckled. “I’m Marta.”

“Stephen,” Roger lied. “This is my son, Simon.” He gagged and spat out a spoonful. “Am I out of touch, Marta?”

Marta shrugged. “You are clearly used to someone with a decent knack and skill. Mind you, this is terrible for an inn. I see your son has Ranger. Does he have a cooking skill?”

“Not yet,” Roger said. “Maybe on the next reset, gods willing.” He grabbed his spoon and forced himself to eat more while studying the inn.

The crowded place hummed, and the rain outside battered the walls and shutters. Roger scowled at his bowl. The innkeeper walked out with mugs of ale.

Riley finished as much as he could muster and set it on his lap. “Is this a trick to get you to buy ale?” he asked.

“Worked on me,” Marta said and took a drink. “It isn’t great either.”

The grit lingered on Riley’s tongue. Covering his mouth with his hand, he conjured up a small amount of water and rinsed. Then he forced himself to swallow. I can’t eat more of this. He stood to get the innkeeper’s attention.

The man walked over a few seconds later, taking the bowl.

“Tastes like gravel,” Roger snarled.

“The war has reduced supplies. And a goblin attack up north has destroyed their harvest.” The innkeeper took his bowl.

Roger groaned. “I’ll be back after I sign up for a caravan, Simon.” He stood and headed for the door.

“So, he’s your father?” Marta asked, adjusting her armor and relaxing against the wall.

Riley nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m out training with him.”

Marta nodded. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Any fun skills?”

“Standard ones for me. Dad trained me to follow his path. I’m hoping to advance enough to be a wild guard.”

Marta nodded. “I’m sure you’ll get there.” She turned and looked back at the group of men.

Riley leaned back and focused on getting rid of the rest of the water, his eyelids growing heavy as he embraced the swirling water within. It called to him like the rain outside.

He let it take him, drifting off to sleep moments later.

~~~

Riley’s eyes snapped open. He blinked at his dad, yawned, and forced himself to stand.

Roger began walking for the door. “We have ourselves a job. The rain is lighter now, too.”

Riley followed his dad and Marta out the door, walking onto the puddle-covered cobblestone. Dodging several, he followed both to a group of merchants with wagons.

“Names,” a woman in a damp dress barked as they approached.

“Stephen,” Roger lied. “Simon’s here.” He gestured.

“You’ll need to help push if we get stuck. Fall in line. You are at the front.” The merchant turned and walked off.

Riley nodded and headed over to his dad. He stretched while looking at the line of carts and wagons. Several merchants milled around.

Roger leaned over. “Practice again. I’ll catch you.”

“You sure?”

“It’ll help your practice experience. Use your stamina to boost yourself. Just embrace it for a surge of strength or speed.”

“Thanks.” Riley turned inward.

Roger stretched and glanced around the area. He turned to the merchant next to him. “Good haul this trip?”

“Yes. Harvest is winding down. The bandits know it, too. Are you new to this?” the merchant asked with a growing frown.

“Just bored.” Roger yawned. “You know how it is.”

The man chuckled. “You look like you can hold your own. I’m not sure about your boy.”

Roger chuckled. “He’ll be fine even if he is new. Watched him take out a whole pack of wolves just last week,” he lied with a growing grin.

“Manage anything recently?”

Roger shook his head. “Nah. Storm and we were inland. Heard anything new?”

“Not really. The nobles are clashing again. There is the goblin raid that looks to be nasty.” The merchant shrugged. “That’s why we’re here. Had to get the last of the supplies out.”

Roger nodded. “I heard that. Anything else?”

“Magical items are in high demand along with any potential casters.” The merchant rolled his eyes. “That’s their fault, of course. They won’t let you train without being nobility. It’s no wonder that we don’t have enough. However, I did hear a rumor about a black market for crystals and gear. Not that I’d have any part in such things. It’s utterly appalling, but we can’t stoop to that.” He slapped his wagon and checked that the worn hide covering kept the water off.

Roger chuckled. “Of course not. We’re all fine, upstanding citizens who aren’t starving after they charge four silver for a deer.”

“Too right. Have any skills to help with that?” the merchant probed with a smile.

Roger shook his head. “Not for this. The capital is above me.”

The merchant nodded with a sigh. “That one is difficult.” He glanced at Riley. “I’m assuming he doesn’t either?”

“He doesn’t have one at all. I’m trying to get him a hunter’s cache.” Roger gently nudged his son as they started moving.

Riley walked forward while trying to come into harmony with the churning inside.

Riley Milvsky

Level: 44

XP: 40813

Bard (C)

Level: 25

Inspiring Song F Bolster your allies with magic and music. Strength and Move Speed increased by 1 for one minute. Costs five Bardic Inspiration and impacts allies within ten meters. The radius of influence expands by one meter for each additional inspiration spent.

Psychic Spike F Wield your mana to cause psychic damage to a target. Cost varies based on allocation.

Manipulate Water F Manipulate the water around you. Cost varies based on amount.

Assassin (C)

Level: 25 + 12

Assume Disguise S +30 charisma. Enhance your current disguise by altering your displayed information and taking on the disguised form. Grants +5 levels to the assigned class. Perception and Insight suffer -250 levels against your disguise and -50 levels against your deception or stealth. Penalty applied: Gods’ Oversight.

Dancer's Form B +10 speed. +2 levels to assigned class. You may use a charge of inspiration to boost your movement speed by an additional 5 for a minute.

Death's Cloak A Slain enemies will grant experience to your base level and active classes. +3 levels to the assigned class. Perception and insight suffer -25 levels against you. Penalty applied: Covenant.

Ambush B +10 speed. +2 levels to the assigned class. Costs one stamina to use. On use, you teleport to a shadow within 20 meters. Penalty applied: Covenant.

Ranger (C)

Level: 24

Predatory Sight E Your perception and insight are boosted by 5. This boost is not reduced by low light or no light.

Pretty E Your appearance is better, but it could be even grander. Use 1 mana to get a little help from Beauty! (Upgrade me again!) Penalty applied: Unequippable. Beauty may alter your appearance at her whim.

Spell Thief (C) Level: 16 Inactive.

Dexterity: 174

Strength: 88

Speed: 81

Intelligence: 88

Charisma: 143

Stamina: 149

Mana: 162

Inspiration: 69