1.6 – Trial of Destiny IV

Abandon Class Skill: Magic Bolt in favor of Class Skill: Weapon Imbuement?

Rika stopped in the black expanse of whatever this place was. “Chryson, would you care to explain this?”

“Of course, Miss Rika. You are being offered the chance to forsake your Magic Bolt skill in favor of a Weapon Imbuement.”

She would have thought it a joke, had it not been for his flat, matter-of-fact inflection. “I gathered as much,” she said. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Like what this Weapon Imbuement actually does?”

“Should you accept, I will be more than happy to inform you of your new capabilities.”

It had been worth a try, even if she’d figured as much. Although she could venture a guess as to what the Weapon Imbuement did, she’d rather have been certain. Either way, she had no intention of using her spell. She’d already decided what kind of class she wanted from all this, and casting spells would go against that. The imbuement likely would as well, but she didn’t have to actually use it.

Given everything she’d seen, and everything Chryson had told her, forsaking her Magic Bolt spell was likely the path she wanted. At the very least, it would take her further away from any sort of spell casting class. Her father and his demands could rot, for all she cared. And if she didn’t use the imbuement? Maybe that would help nudge her toward some sort of warrior class. She still had no idea what path she was on, nor what options she may be pushing herself toward or away from without knowing it. Still, she could be reasonably confident after the last two rooms that she was at least headed in the right general direction. Being asked to give up her one and only spell was just confirmation.

She accepted the trade. As the liminal darkness fell away and the rocky cleft faded back into view, the bursting of sound and color of Chryson feeding undiluted knowledge to her announced her choice.

Class Skill removed: Magic Bolt

General Skill removed: Basic Spellcasting

Class Skill gained: Weapon Imbuement

General Skill gained: Basic Enchantment

• Class Skills

  • Strike – A basic attack with equipped weapon or shield. Average damage, no special properties. 12 second cooldown.What will you make of yourself, Aspirant?

  • Weapon Imbuement – A basic weapon enchantment. Adds minor magical damage to an equipped weapon. 30 second duration. 30 second cooldown.What will you make of yourself, Aspirant?

“Such an ability will prove most useful against opponents vulnerable to magical damage,” Chryson said. “Even against foes that aren’t especially weak to the arcane, it will still increase the lethality of your strikes, if only by a little. As an Aspirant, your Magic stat is understandably low. Should you receive a class with a similar ability after the trial, higher Magic will enhance such abilities accordingly.”

Although she’d figured as much, it was good to have confirmation. If anything, she felt like she could just see the edges of how this whole class thing worked. Once this whole trial was over and Chryson could freely answer her questions, she could fill in the rest. For now, forward.

Carefully, she made her way through the narrow cleft leading to the next chamber. The past two had been those kobolds, and she’d had enough of that. Carving her way through a horde of individually weak foes wasn’t exactly her idea of a proper test, especially not one intended to let her forge her own destiny. Plus, she was sick of the smell, and sick of the countless tiny wounds they inflicted upon her. At least the healing poultice was doing its job.

The wound she’d treated was nearly healed. And while the timer on her health regeneration had ticked down during her time inside that lightless void, her smaller scrapes and bruises had closed up, too. Overall, she felt fit and refreshed, even if not at the peak of her abilities. Good enough to keep going, at least.

The end of the passage came into view, and she could only breathe in relief at the faint blue light shining steadily from the chamber beyond. No fire, and hopefully no kobolds.

As she drew closer to the passage exit, the cleft widened out into a proper hallway. The rough-hewn walls changed almost imperceptibly to tightly masoned stones. The exit to the hall was framed by a carved arch bearing intricate designs of pillars wound in ivy. Finer than any human work Rika had ever seen. Beyond, the chamber that must certainly hold the next part of her trial was equally impressive.

High vaulted ceilings, much like back in the temple proper, rose into blackness, the very top of the chamber too far away for the meager blue light to reach. At the base of the columns running along the walls, bronze braziers burned with steady blue flames, the source of the faint light she’d seen from the passage. Much the same as with all the previous chambers, there was an exit at the far end. A set of massive double doors, carved wood bearing images of hundreds of laboring figures engaged in the building of some great monument. The doors themselves were bound with iron. To either side stood a statue.

The statues were dull gray in color. Smooth, unnaturally so, even for the work of a master sculptor—as it was obvious these had been crafted by the hand of such. The details were lifelike in every aspect, and only magnified by their size. From where she stood at the far end of the chamber, Rika judged they were twice as tall as herself. Each held a large shield, round and convex, in the style popular in the far south. They each likewise bore a short spear, the kind used in one hand and suited for fighting in a tight shield wall. The statues themselves were naked aside from their loincloths, sandals, and helmets. Every curve of carved muscle and limb was as lifelike as if they’d been living, breathing men.

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Drawing to a halt at the top of a short stair leading from the entrance down to the floor of the main chamber, Rika fidgeted with the strap of her shield. Besides the impressive architecture, the two monumental figures at the far end, and herself, there was nothing in the chamber. No living beings she could see. No piles of refuse, no nests of kobolds. The columns running along the edge provided meager shelter, half set into the stone as they were. No potential spots for ambush, and no obvious places where one might place traps.

Rika lifted her gaze to the twin statues once more, and adjusted her grip on the arming sword held in her left hand. The test here was obvious enough. “The only way forward is through,” she repeated to herself. She descended the first of the half-dozen steps leading down to the main chamber floor.

Both statues moved, their shields lifted from where they rested at their sides to cover their stonewrought flesh. Their spears dipped, points both aimed at Rika as the statues advanced, their stone-sandaled feet sounding against the floor in unison.

Clay Sentinel – Level 3

Rika swept the room once again, looking for anything that might help her. A defensive position, maybe an errant potion or a new piece of gear. Anything. She found nothing. The chamber was just as it was on first glance—barren of any defining features except the murals and pillars masterfully carved into the walls. It was nearly thirty feet wide, and easily triple the length. Almost as if it were an arena where prize fighters struggled for their lives before a watching crowd.