Reinhardt’s BardsBardDancing Lights Cantripand left to experiment, quickly evolving into a competition to see who could produce the brightest or most intricate light show. Those who couldn’t sing, dance or cast acted as porters and auxiliary kitchen staff, working to load the tables with various roasts, racks, cauldrons, breads and cakes.
As the town partied, often calling for toasts to Reinhardt or his parents, Reinhardt himself was growing increasingly uncomfortable, uneasy and hungry. He didn’t really want all this adulation and attention, and he was getting hungry. He also knew that many of these people would have had little to no time for him if he hadn’t just gotten a Innate, and he was getting really hungry. He vaulted off the outstretched hand and slid down the fountain at that point, resolved to get some beef into him before the townsfolk fully stripped the beef side that he could see from his previous vantage point. He never made it to the table. As soon as people realised he was no longer perched upon the hand, they descended upon him, thrusting drinks into his hands and hoisting him to their shoulders. He didn’t mind the drinking, but he was sorely missing the eating.
He seized upon the heads of those carrying him and directed them toward a table with a rack of lamb dripping over a bed of glowing coals. Almost immediately, the crowd carved, parted and plated a few generous portions and passed the plate up, along with a fresh tankard of a dark, smooth ale. While he didn’t think he would ever get used to preferential treatment, maybe just for today, it may not be so bad. The spontaneous festival carried on until well after the sun had dropped below the horizon, the food had been finished and the last drop of beer and ale in town had been drunk. There may be a few sore heads, and a few emergency supply runs over the next few days, but the Innate was quite possibly a once in a lifetime event.
Reinhardt woke early the next morning. He was too excited, and too full of liquids, to remain asleep for long. His parents were sound asleep, their snores vibrating the very floorboards. Even his mother was snoring, and she never snored unless her sleep was the torpor of a food coma. As the parents of the “guest of honour,” they had been seated at the head of the table alongside the mayor and headmistress of . No doubt they had been speaking about options and opportunities, but once the drinking and eating started, every parent, teacher, friend and acquaintance would have insisted on toasting them and their boy. Good on them, he supposed. Everyone will want to be their friend, he knew this because suddenly everyone wanted to be friend. People who had no time for him prior to his
To that end, Reinhardt dressed quickly and began the ten minutes of walking to get into “town.” The eastern horizon was turning a dusky pink, the sun only held back by the mountains that rose above the . By the time he had reached the gate, the sun’s light had begun to creep down the walls and the grey of the morning sky was starting to transition to a deep blue. Otto was waiting just inside the gate, seated on a granite bench with his head already in a book. He also had a scroll half unfurled across his knees. He did not even stir as Reinhardt sat down beside him. After a few minutes, he murmured a short epithet and snapped the book shut. He then threw the book at Reinhardt, jumping up and tripping over a combination of feet, scroll and robes. Reinhardt wore the book to the face, the attack coming completely unexpected.
“Good morrow, Otto! You seemed happy, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” Otto had the good grace to look embarrassed, quickly rolling the scroll up and rolling himself up onto his knees.
“Please, forgiveness! I am close to solving a problem that may well hasten our plans.” Otto went from abashed to excited at the drop of a hat, and always tried to talk at the same speed he read. Oftentimes it seemed like he actually was reading, reciting entire paragraphs of text as it unspooled behind his eyes. “I believe your was the final piece we didn’t know we needed, for the puzzle we didn’t know we were solving.”
“It is so nice to be needed,” Reinhardt grinned down at his still kneeling friend. “But I feel it is my duty to warn you: I have received some very tempting offers.”
“Ye hay naw,” came another, brusque and coarse voice from behind them. “Nae th’others ha’th’same talents that we do.” Magdi was stumping up to them, the bright metal of his smithing hammer gleamed in the morning light. Even though Magdi was the wrong side of five feet, he made up for it by being almost as wide as he was tall, and almost as thick as he was wide.
“I received a very tempting offer from your mother last night.”
Magdi had just started to bristle when Otto shot to his feet, beaming. “Ho, Magdi! I was just explaining to Reinhardt all about the revisions to our plan.”
Magdi squinted up at Otto, who had grown now to 6’3”?. Despite the lanky frame towering over him, the Dwarf dwarfed the Man. “I weren’t aware we had nae ‘plan’ t’ ‘revise’ in th’first place.”
“Oh yes, master Magdi, a plan for each of the possible outcomes, a plan that has been modified to include Reinhardt’s rather unique .” Otto was rubbing his hands together, his eyes alight with a fire that only ever came alight when there were books, tables and graphs involved. Reinhardt and Magdi shared a long look. “Please, forbearance! I believe we have a real chance to raid the VaultJahren?chstes.”
Now pulled the other boys up short. Vaultwas a Vault deep in the , east-north-east from - twice as far again as Dungeon. The trip took almost five times as long though, due to a combination of the Schwarzwald for the first stretch and some of the roughest country in the region for the last third. The reward was worth it, usually. Vaultwas a Vault - a sealed chamber sitting upon a high mountain deep in the range, with a guardian monster and a Strongbox with an item for each party member with a cumulative of 24. Whether it was two 20, or a and two ’s, the was one of four such known unique Vaults. The gimmick for this particular Vault was that whatever the combination was, the higher ranked item was magical. The “ideal” run for Reinhardt would be a and two - no matter the item Rank, Grade and Level, Reinhardt would be able to use it, so the higher the better.
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The problem with VaultsVaults Schulef?higkeit. But they also knew Otto was not prone to excited utterances and spurious claims. They trusted Otto. So if Otto said he had a plan, then the others would at least hear him out. All this was communicated through another look between Magdi and Reinhardt. Magdi scratched at his fledgling beard - one that promised to be thicker, bushier and more robust than even his father’s. Thor was a proud Dwarf indeed, but Reinhardt always joked that Magdi got his beard from his mother.
Reinhardt glanced at the book Otto had been reading. ‘ . A handbook produced by the K?ninglünd Kerkerder die InnungDungeonK. Whilst not exactly “rare,” they were “pretty rare,” exclusive to Kerkerder die Innung members
“Interesting literature, how did you come by it?” Reinhardt held the leather bound tome out to Otto, but didn’t let it go when Otto grabbed it.
“Legitimately, I assure you.” Otto was trying to pry Reinhardt’s fingers from his precious book. “The
“How generous of them,” Reinhardt cocked his head. “They must have such big hearts to simply give you such an extravagant gift.” He knew the had been courting Otto, trying to tie him down. They would receive generous endowments from the crown in order to train a Orb of Power
“Yes. Well,” Otto smoothed down the front of his robe. “They may be under an impression that I would be attending their campus.” Magdi again squinted up at the mage and put his fists on his hips.
“Oh ya? Wat’ve ye done to give that impression?”
“I promised them I would, if they found for me a copy of last year’s
“And here I be - thinkin we be climbin’ Towers
“So we shall, my Dwarven companion! And so we shall.” Otto was again rubbing his hands together and bobbing his head.
Reinhardt was watching this performance with a profound scowl etched upon his face.
“You’ll climb Towers
“Please, patience. I will explain all,” the tall man resumed his seat, shuffling the book and scroll to rest more comfortably on his lap. “I agreed only to attend their campus and have my name on their registration rolls. For taxation and Royal funding purposes only.”
Magdi rolled his eyes and set the handle of his hammer between two cobbles, sitting on the head of the malus as a makeshift stool. Reinhardt rolled his cloak up into a bundle and tossed it to the ground next to the Dwarf, lying down and gathering the cloak up as a pillow. Otto continued on, unconcerned with his friend’s antics.
“Attendance count at the college itself has a number of irregularities, which can be exploited. I must only be present twelve days throughout the year to be considered to have attended the college full-time,” he paused, waiting for the other two to prompt him with a question. The others had already decided months ago to stop feeding this beast, and just wait him out. Otto would invariably fill the growing silence with his own voice, continuing on with all relevant information in the order of importance.
Otto looked a little crestfallen after the pause dragged into the third heartbeat.
“On the last school day of each month, a minor assessment is made to measure how well the student has grasped the concepts laid out in the curriculum thus far. If the student can achieve a passing grade, the pupil attracts no further scrutiny,” Otto continued rather lamely. “As long as I can be in the Hall on the day and attain a passing grade, their funding for training me will continue, and as long as the money keeps coming in, the faculty doesn’t care how many classes I actually attend.”
“So, your freedom to Delve or Climb comes down to what, being less than a fortnight travel out from the capital, and passing a quiz each month?”
“And, if all goes according to plan, we could be in a position to clear any DungeonVault
