Reina cleared her throat. “Do you not have greenlands like this where you’re from?” She asked, sweeping her gaze left and right.

  “Yes, we do. Washington is especially beautiful three months out of the year. It’s green as this, with lakes and rivers, forests, and in the middle, there’s a Mountain that stabs right into the sky. Pineville, though, is a small rural town where the most fun you can have on a Friday night is being up to no good,” Rook said, shifting in his wooden seat.

  “We grew up around here. In fact, I brought Reina to Ollar when she was just a little girl. She was really something, running about with her mothers, enhancing tomes and journals.” Roran added, grabbing a pipe from his waist pocket.

  “Father,” Reina snapped. “You truly know how to embarrass me.”

  He blew into the bowl of his pipe, clearing the chamber of any debris. Rook hadn’t smelled tobacco in hours, in fact, until that weird robe guy came; he had a nice box of menthols. He waited in anticipation, but it wasn't tobacco that Roran pulled free from the pouch he was holding. It looked like dried mushrooms. Does this man know any other tricks?

  He packed the pipe with the dried shrooms, a look of bliss on his face as he lit it.

  The wagon rocked with each rut they hit on the caravan road they were on. The hard dirt path was wide enough for two wagons and was well-worn. Rook was surprised to see they were alone. On the left side of the road, a low stone wall lined the path. Just over the wall stood the skeleton of a village. The thin remnants of the burnt houses stuck out like tombstones.

  “What happened there?” Rook asked, his voice more silent than he intended. Staring at the black mark on the otherwise green land. “It’s all dead.”

  “Bloodstone,” Roran basically spat the word. “Throughout the years, they destroy these villages for their Conjured hunts. This village used to have a nice inn for those with wanderlust, but didn’t want to venture into the woods.” Roran took another drag of his pipe and blew a smoke ring. “Damned elves can summon great beasts. Control blood and a lot of other nasty magics.”

  “Is there nobody who can keep them in check?” Rook asked.

  “The Order of the Sentinels,” Reina said quickly. “They have the power to fight, the knowledge of the past to beat them. Their Sentinel and Scribes are revered in Yorthon. What I’d give to get a look at their libraries…”

  “Enough of that talk,” Roran said, sharply towards his daughter.

  She slunk back, obeying her father.

  Rook’s gaze lingered on the village remains. It had to have spanned at least half a mile wide, with the wooden buildings making neat rows. In the middle, a clear space where there must have been a courtyard. His heart hurt, this was one of those unfortunate truths of war, good people sometimes got hurt.

  “Why didn’t they stop the elves?”

  “It’s the treaty, Rook. The magical contract doesn’t allow the use of violence against the Bloodstone and those under the Sentinel protection, unless it’s provoked and in self-defense.”

  Rook threw his hands up at the village. “You’re telling me these people tried to take on the elves, knowing they’re that dangerous?”

  Roran gave him a sad smile. “There’s no such treaty against the Conjured. A clause allows the Bloodstone to kill anyone found harboring the otherworlders.” Roran let the words hang in the air. “They reward people with information handsomely.”

  Rook took his words as a warning. “I’ll make sure nobody knows then.”

  He worried about Knox, wondering if there would be people who would turn him in or if he was already found by the Elves. For a long while, they rode in silence, the melancholy of the village fading with each rotation of the wagon wheel.

  “Are there any other dangers here? On the path that is?” Rook asked, taking in the surroundings.

  “There’s always the chance for a burrower, but I haven’t seen one in ages,” said the mushroom farmer.

  “Don’t forget, Father, there are the predator birds, although they are not really in season.” Reina bit her lip in thought. “Then there’s the highwaymen.”

  Rook was beginning to feel like this wasn’t the serene path anymore. He decided that now would not be the ideal time to sleep. I wonder if Knox is in a peaceful place like this, or even alive for that matter.

  “Say, Roran, after the quest, both of you stared off into the distance. Do you level up?”

  “Of course we do.” He looked at Rook as if he were an idiot. "In fact, I was allocating skill points.” Roran smiled brightly. “I am level 66 now,” said the mushroom Farmer.

  Rook thought he must have made a face, because Roran gave him a knowing smile.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Reina placed a hand on his shoulder. “We all have different classes. My father is a farmer, and his herbalism proficiency is at its highest. Which is why his level reflects his skill. If he were to face even a lower-level monster, it might pose a threat.”

  “I’d like to add that the explosion hurt me nearly to the point of death,” said the farmer.

  Rook felt inferior with his current level. “So what skill did you level up?”

  “Tailoring,” Roran chuckled. “I may be a higher level, but none of those are in combat skills. That skill book I gave you was going to be used for mushroom picking on ledges when my old bones can’t climb anymore.”

  Rook frowned at the man. My one fighting skill is a mushroom-picking skill. Rook sat back, satisfied, he put a hole in crabcakes eye.

  “Rook, as a battlemage, each skill you receive that falls within the element will turn into a skill you can use offensively.” Reina was chewing on a piece of crab. “Even though you can only pick rocks up, you can still shoot them through armored eyes.”

  “Can you read minds?” Rook asked suspiciously.

  She gave an easy, satisfied chuckle, and the corner of her lips grew into a self-satisfied smirk. He now faced the dilemma of what to do with his skill points. He opened up the interface and scrolled through the choices.

  “There’s too many options,” Said Rook.

  “Know that you can only choose one skill tree at a time. If you choose the wrong one, you may be stuck with it for a long time,” Reina said.

  “You just know everything, don’t you?” Rook said sarcastically.

  Reina gave a dry chuckle. “It’s not that, you just know as much as a withered mushroom.”

  Rook smiled. She can dish it out as well. It came down to three different choices of skill trees.

  Skill trees: Unlock available

  -Battle Ready 0/15

  (Locked available at level up)

  -Force Multiplier 0/15

  (Locked available at level up)

  -Elemental Mastery 0/15

  (Locked available at level up)

  Would you like to unlock skill trees?

  Yes

  Battle Ready: Skills that enhance physical melee and combat

  Force Multiplier: Skills that enhance party abilities

  Elemental Mastery: Skills that enhance casting with elements

  Would you like to use your skill points?

  Yes/ No

  Yes, add skill into Force Multiplier.

  -Force Multiplier 2 of 15

  Skill added Winds of change 1 of 5

  Offensive skills increased when in a party to 2%.

  “What did you choose?” Reina asked.

  Rook shifted in the wooden seat, trying to get comfortable. “I chose a skill called Force Multiplier. Still not sure if I made the right choice.” He scratched his black hair and was surprised to see some purple dust on his hands.

  “I told you, the purple mushrooms stick to everything,” said the enhancer with a look of self-satisfaction. “Anyhow, the force multiplier is a great choice, some of the top Battlemages in the circuits and guilds opt to have Force Multiplier as a part of their skill tree choices.”

  Good for me then.

  “What skill trees do you both have?” Rook asked.

  Reina bit her lip and sighed. “I have enhancing magic. My skills are minor increase stamina and minor knowledge of mana.”

  The same self-satisfying look appeared on Roran’s face, like father, like daughter.. “I have the master level of Herbalist.”

  “You really don’t know anything else but mushrooms,” Rook said with a chuckle.

  “It’s why I’m a master farmer and know what’s best for Ollar farmlands.” Roran smiled. “Oh, and take this, please.” Roran handed Rook a small quiver. “It’s made of mushroom leather. I have a few made for herbalism, but these may suit your needs.”

  Would you like to accept Mushroom Quiver (Silver)?

  Yes/ No

  “Yes, thank you, I accept.”

  Mushroom quiver added to inventory.

  Made by Roran Jax, holds up to 20 projectiles.

  The mushroom quiver was brown and had a simple design with a pouch, flap, and button. Inside were fifteen stones, which should have added a considerable amount of weight, but the quiver remained light as if it were empty. Rook tossed it gently in the air a few times before tying it to his belt.

  “Mushroom leather remains light. It’s one of the few materials that are extremely difficult to work with, one must be a master of the materials.” Roran smiled a toothy grin. “How’s that for a one-trick pony?”

  “Color me impressed, Roran. Here I am judging you when all I can do is toss things,” said Rook.

  Rook looked at the road ahead as it wound its way up a small hill and then over a crest. The warmth of the sunlight kissed his face, and he closed his eyes. This place would have been exactly what the old crone would have wanted for his forever home; instead, he was forced to live in bumfuck nowhere with a bastard grandson. Rook felt himself blinking moisture away.

  “You doing okay, Rook?” Reina asked, staring at him from between him and Roran.

  “Like a pig in mud. Thank you for asking.”

  At the crest of the hill, he saw bluish mountains in the far distance. Merely a spiky line on the horizon. Before that was a small speck of a town and then a dirt road that weaved through rolling hills until it reached them. He guessed they would be there by nightfall at the latest. He wrung his hands, tapping his fingers on his knuckles. What should I even be doing here? The one quest I have to find the Sacred Cipher means nothing. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks; he had two people to ask about the quest. He opened the quest log once again and faced Reina.

  “What is the Sacred Cipher?”

  Roran nearly spat the water he was drinking out and began to choke. He was sent into a coughing fit and had to beat his chest until he recovered. “Did you say Sacred Cipher?”

  Rook looked at Roran. “Yes, it means nothing to me; however, it’s in my quests.” Rook looked between Roran and Reina’s slack faces. “What? You act like I just took a shit on the dinner table.”

  “The Sacred Cipher is a myth,” Roran said, with a hoarse voice.

  “I’ve come across mentions of it in tomes. You’re more likely to kill the Demon Overlord than find the Sacred Cipher,” Reina chimed.

  “First, Demon Overlord is pretty metal, and second, you still didn’t tell me anything.”

  “I assure you that there is nothing pretty about that beast. It’s the incarnate of gluttony and anger. Right now, there’s a powerful battle over territory between the Infernal lords.” Roran looked truly afraid.

  “Nobody’s ever seen the Sacred Cipher and lived to tell about it, because it lies in the underworld. Only Infernal kin have the ability to go there, and you will not have the opportunity to befriend one. They are savage and think of nothing but death and pain,” Reina said.

  “I get it, so how am I supposed to get this quest completed?” Rook asked, scratching at some dried mud on his neck.

  “That I don’t know, but once we get to Ollar, I can ask the historian.” Roran pointed at the growing speck. “It doesn’t look like much from here, but I assure you it is a magnificent city.”

  Quest updated: Find the Sacred Cipher

  Speak to the Ollar Historian regarding the Sacred Cipher.

  “What are Infernal?”

  “The races apart of the coalition and the neutral,” she replied.

  He decided to leave it alone for now.