Runeblade

After leaving the meadow that held the site of his class selection, Kaius and his guide had fallen into an easy silence. He appreciated that. As they walked through the giant old growth forest, working their way through the undergrowth, he started to feel at home.

It had been far, far, too long since he had been in the Sea, been graced by the radiant warmth of the sun, smelt the rich earth and vegetal notes of wood and leaves on the air, heard the chirping of birds, and the rustling of true wind as it passed through the canopy above.

Even the wooded sections of the Depths were a poor substitute for such concentrated life. He only hoped that whatever changes the second phase would bring, that it would leave this aura of serenity untouched. More than anything else, that would cut at him if he was the reason for its disruption.

Beyond a doubt, this was the break that he had craved, needed, after so long in the depths. Even here in mind only, he felt the tension of a year of war slowly leave him and a renewed vigour and determination take its place.

Only now did his success start to feel real. They had done it, slain a Guardian and obtained their classes. Sure, the future held perils, but the most immediate mountain had been summited. With their success, and the knowledge and experience he now carried with him, Kaius felt far more steady about the looming range on the horizon.

The forest parted once more, revealing a small break in the trees where a rocky slope hampered their ability to take root. Kaius came to a shuddering stop. He recognised this place.

There, at the base of the slope, lay a number of cracked boulders. Four in total, by chance or fate each had split cleanly through the middle to reveal a clean and flat space. Just off to the side lay a burnt out campfire, scattered with loose dirt and cleared of leaves.

It was the sight of where he had first truly dived into the possibility of glyph-binding. Where Father had expounded on the mysteries of the runic arts in depth, and spent his evenings muttering as he sketched theories on one of the split boulders. It had been an enrapturing time. Then, more than any other, his father had been driven - focused totally and utterly on something other than Kaius’s direct training.

It had been fascinating, seeing his father attack the stone with sticks of charcoal like he was trying to slay a dragon, diagram after diagram materialising before being wiped clean once more.

It had humanised him, let him see Father as more than a harsh taskmaster and stalwart protector. Yet it had highlighted the cracks, and shone a revealing light on all they must have lost. It had revealed glimpses of the man Father must have been. A driven, passionate, and viciously intelligent man who latched on problems like the jaws of a greater beast, wringing them for all the secrets and solutions he could.

It had been when he realised that Father was drowning.

How could you solve the destruction of your dynasty? Your own loss of power, that only dwindled by the day, and a son you needed to nurture and train without the resources you needed to do so?

It had become clear then, in those halcyon days, why Father had such demands on his attention and effort. Ensuring he could survive without him was Father’s final act. The final problem he had to solve.

Kaius loved him for it.

Letting out a slow, shuddering, breath, Kaius turned to his class guide. “Here?” he asked, his tone half accusatory.

“Here.” his guide replied with a nod. “There is power in symbolism. Come along now.”

Kaius steeled himself. He took a long, final look at the camp he had lived in for months before he followed after his guide, approaching the split boulders. As they drew closer, he realised that three of them were not as he remembered them being. They were set in a neat line, exposed faces unshadowed by their missing halves.

One seemed to be some sort of sword technique diagram. It was similar - no, identical - in style to the ones that Father had sketched in the dirt with a stick when he was being taught the components of Warforged. It was different though, this was no simple style guide. Waves of roaring energy rolled off the blade. When the sketched figure struck his opponent, that energy tore at their flesh. A true class skill, rather than the mostly passive effects of his general set. The diagrams were vague, barely showing him what the skill did, let alone how.

The next had a singular massive glyph scrawled across its surface. Pointy and jagged, it was made of hard lines and acute angles. As he approached, it seemed to almost shift with his perspective, its form mutagenic and transient. It seemed there would be no stealing hidden insights from skills he didn’t plan to select.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaius caught sight of his aged clone smirking. Of course it could read his thoughts. No matter, it was an incarnation of the systems might after all. He turned his attention to the final boulder.

The last was another technique diagram, though this one was clearly designed for glyph binding. A runebound figure cast a bolt of magic, a runic hymn burning away from their outstretched hand. It did the same with its other hand, two bolts appearing while only one charge was burnt.

That caught his eye. The potential to double the output of his limited runic hymns would do much to shore up the weaknesses of glyph-binding. Not that he intended to make his choice of only a first impression. Now that he had a class, with a monumental plus-three to Intelligence every level, the limits of his mana pool would dwindle rapidly. Even gated as he was by being limited in the amount of hymns he could inscribe at once, he doubted that many things would live long enough to threaten him after he had gotten through twenty-four Arcane Bolts.

He was also immensely curious about the glyph. They were supposed to be a major centrepiece of his class, afterall.

“Shall we start with the last one then? It certainly seems to have caught your eye.” His class guide said with more than a little mirth, shaking him from his revere.

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Kaius returned his guide's smile. “Caught that did you? I suppose you don’t miss much.” he replied.

“Not really, no. Go on then.” His guide ushered him forwards.

Kaius approached the stone covered in a glyph-binding technique diagram. The air grew heavy as he walked forwards. Not as potent and charged with destiny as his class selections, not by half, but it was still enough for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

The charcoal diagram shimmered, and a description of the skill quickly dominated his view.

Hyperius Choralcasting:

Class Skill- Tier I

Affinity: Arcane, Mirror

Type: Glyph-binding, Metamagic

Selection Available!

Unique

Master Hyperius was known for his placid demeanour and destructive might. Where others preferred variety and flexibility, he preferred to take the simplest of arcane shards and then proliferate them until they were a storm that blotted out the sun. His contributions to the Order mean that he is interred in the Tomb. Do you think you will be able to do the same, Initiate?

This skill allows the user to alter a runic hymn inscription to duplicate the spell when activated for 90% added base mana reserved.

Every 10 levels the user may increase the spell duplication by 1 for an additional 90% base added to the reserved mana required per hymn.

Kaius pondered the first skill.

It was good, that was without a doubt. Even with the nigh instant casting of glyph-binding compared to normal spells, there was still some level of delay caused by his own ability to will a hymn to activate. It was a non-issue at the moment, when the most he had done was send a volley of less than a dozen spells at once.

However, when his pool improved, and he could potentially inscribe a full two dozen Arcane Bolts or more, it would be a significant improvement to his firepower.

Either way, it was a solid option to have available, though he wouldn’t know how it shored up until he checked the rest.

He looked away from the skills description, down to the line to where the next boulder waited. The glyph.

That was what he was most curious about. From what his guide had said, his current glyph was… jank. What's more, if he kept it he would be limited to the spell-hymns he had already devised, or whatever other slight alterations he could make to Arcane Bolt, until he found himself a tutor in High Lothian.

If the glyph served to be an improvement to his own, and provided some way for him to gain spells like his guide had said, then it was almost certain it would be the one he picked.

Which is why he would save it for last. He knew if he saw it now, it would taint his impressions of whatever the sword technique was on the final boulder.

Leaving the first skill behind, he walked past the boulder with the glyphic inscription and approached the one at the end of the line.

“Oh? Not going to check in order? How unexpected.” his guide said teasingly, giving him a wink.

Kaius suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the construct. While it may have looked like a venerable copy of himself, it was impossible to forget that it was a direct agent of the system. One did not snark the highest of gods.

“Just trying to save the best for last.” He mumbled, arriving at the stone that held the sword technique. Stepping forwards, he focused his attention until a status screen flickered into view.

Disruptive Cut:

Class Skill- Tier I

Affinity: Martial, Sound

Type: Longsword, Antimagic, Strike

Available!

Unusual

Some Runeblades specialise, tuning themselves to a specific kind of prey. Amongst these rare figures, it is the howling blades of the mage-hunters that are most feared by all of an arcane bent.

This skill allows the user to infuse their blade with disruptive vigour at the cost of 100 Stamina, temporarily destabilising channelled mana in their targets.

Each level reasonably raises the difficulty of preventing or counteracting this destabilisation.

Each level moderately increases the length of time that the disruption persists.

Each level minutely increases the chance of interrupted channelled mana causing a damaging backlash.

This one intrigued him. While he was heavily disinclined to take it, it still revealed some secrets about this nebulous Vesryn Order that dominated the history of his class. He had chosen the path he had to be flexible, not to focus on a single type of enemy, even one as ubiquitous and dangerous as mana users.

In isolation, it would be a strong pick, even with being a lower rarity than Choralcasting. Yet he doubted it would operate in isolation. He decided to satisfy his curiosity. Afterall, what good was a guide if you did not ask them to show you the way?

“These skills. Will they influence what I am offered later? Both later skills and class evolutions?” he asked, turning away from the boulder to address the system construct.

“Good catch, and good question,” they responded, giving him a nod. “Yes to influencing later classes. The skills you pick, and how you use them, both directly influence class evolutions, and often impact the types of feats that you complete. As for later skills? Yes, but to a lesser degree. Ultimately, it is the class itself that has the most influence, and it would take several skills with the same broad focus to completely shift everything you are offered.”

Kaius nodded along to his guide's explanation, chewing the inside of his cheek. “In that case, I don’t think this one's for me. Not for my first skill, at least. Is it able to be offered again?” he asked.

“It could, but it is much more likely to be something different, whether subtly or radically.” his guide replied, shifting their weight on one foot. It stood out to Kaius, he doubted it was unconscious. There was no way that the system itself was a slave to things as base as simple discomfort. Still, it humanised his guide. Which he supposed was the point, it had said that it had taken that form to put him at ease after all.

The specifics of skills impacts on his future choices aside, Kaius still had one main question. Where this class had come from. He’d had a suspicion building for a while, after reading epigraph after epigraph. One that had only grown as he saw the references made to a supposedly powerful Order of glyph-binders, when he was supposedly the first of his ‘cohort’. Whatever that meant.

“The Vesryn Order, they're not from around here are they? They can’t be.” he asked, cautious curiosity tinting his words.

His class guide gave him another one of its wide smiles. “Clever. You’d be surprised how few people ask that. Everyone is usually too caught up in the hullabaloo of their shiny new class.”

Kaius paused. That wasn’t much of an answer, though the fact he had been commended for asking it confirmed they were not in his mind. He supposed that they could be from the higher realms, but they sounded all too … mortal for that to make sense to him. “Where are they from then?”

“Can’t say. Not yet at least. Keep on climbing like you have and you’ll figure it out for yourself quick enough though.” Giving him an apologetic shrug, his class guide nodded towards his last skill option. “You should check that out. Something tells me you’ll be quite pleased with it.”

Kaius turned back to the final boulder.

The shifting, aggressive angles of the glyph on its face seemed to tug at him. Drawing him forwards.

He complied willingly.

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