“Hold out yer hand, and voice yer intent ter take the exam,” Helga whispered. I held out my hand, about half a foot from the door.
“My name is Chanter, and I am here to take the class examination.”
The face on the door opened its eyes and yawned, looking from me to Helga. It opened its mouth again, and a green frond unfurled, a glistening, clear, fist-sized gem at its tip. Weird.
“Put yer hand on it.”
I did as instructed, placing my right palm on the orb, which was wet and warm. There was pressure, then a sharp stab of pain, and I saw my blood swirling into the crystal. I tried pulling my hand back and momentarily panicked when it felt glued to the stone. After a second, my hand came free with an audible pop, and I stumbled backwards.
The crystal rolled back up into the frond, the mouth closing. The smiling face winked at me before closing its eyes. A vertical seam appeared down the center of the wood, and the door swung inward into a dark, circular room.
“Hell, Oaken Father musta liked you! Been years since I seen that kinda reaction from him. This should be good. On ya go, in, in.” She made sweeping gestures towards the open door with both hands.
I walked into the room, Helga following. She stepped to the side and leaned against the wall with a smile.
“Now lad, know I can’t intervene or help ya in any way. If ya die, ya die. I’m just here ta make sure what kills ya don’t be comin’ out to kill anyone else. And ta get rid of yer body. But don't be worried ‘bout that—ye’ll be fine! Trust in yerself.”
“I keep hearing about how deadly this test is. Is it really that dangerous?” I was getting nervous.
“Aye, adventuring life’s dangerous, lad. But that don’t mean it's impossible. Been a long time since I seen someone die taking the exam. Months. Maybe going on a year now. Usually only happens once a year or so—it's due to happen soon. But that don’t mean it’ll be you! You’re sure to be fine! Just take it seriously, ya hear?”
“Right. Right. Seriously,” I muttered, looking around the circular chamber. High overhead, thirty or so feet up, the earthen ceiling was streaked with thick roots. The outer rim of the room also consisted of large roots that wove together to form a rough wall. The room was empty aside from a few braziers that shone with magical flames.
As I stepped toward the center, a stone table rose from the ground. Seven items lay on the table: a spear, a short sword laying over a buckler, a bow, a wand, a gnarled wooden staff, and a battered lute with at least one broken string. My eyes lingered on the lute for a second, my fingers twitching. I remembered long nights at bars, in restaurants, sitting on subway platforms, my case open and filling with coins and crumpled bills–on good nights. The feel of the strings under my fingers, strumming and plucking melodies. As I approached the table, I heard Helga gasp.
“All seven! Lad! You got some potential in ya!” Her voice jumped an octave as I glanced around at her. “Oy! Watch out!”
A section of roots on the far wall spread apart, opening a swirling portal of green and blue energy. Three small figures emerged from the portal, screaming and waving large knobby sticks with thorny protrusions. They glanced around the room for a moment before all three sets of eyes locked on me and they resumed their screams, charging.
The creatures, which appeared to be bipedal wolves with opposable thumbs, stood just over waist-high and were covered in fur that was three different shades of gray and brown. Their clothing was made from patched fur and large leaves. Foamy spittle flew from their jowls and they were pissed.
They were halfway across the room before I finally broke free from the shock of their appearance and moved towards the table.
Adrenaline flooded my veins and I lost my fine motor skills. I eyed the lute but moved on. How would music be of any use against monsters with such obvious bloodlust in their eyes? I reached for the spear and sent it careening off the front of the table. It clattered to the ground as I grabbed at the wand instead. I lifted it and flicked it towards the approaching creatures, which were labelled as Forest Kobolds.
Sparks fizzled out of the wand. Nothing else happened. I panicked and threw the wand at the closest kobold, which was now only about ten feet away.
The wand flipped through the air before smacking the kobold across the face, snapping with a detonation of magic that knocked me over, sent all of the items on the table flying off at odd angles, and showered gore in a twenty-foot circle around where the kobold had been.
The second-closest creature had been close enough to be caught up in the explosion and was now missing a large portion of its body. A bloody pair of legs and part of a torso lay against the edge of the table.
The third kobold was badly wounded. Its stick had been blown back and had impaled the kobold in the face, taking out an eye. The one-eyed kobold stumbled for a moment but regained its composure, lifting its staff as it charged at me. A health bar flashed above its head—red and nearly gone.
I looked around and saw the battered lute laying nearby. I reached out, gripping the neck of the lute and swinging it like a club as the kobold approached. Some deep-seated part of myself cringed at the action, weaponizing an instrument like this, but panic overruled it. The kobold swung at me, but it missed. I didn’t. The side of the kobold’s head collapsed under the lute with a sickening crunch that made my stomach lurch. It fell lifelessly to the ground. A notification appeared.
Instrumental Battery skill unlocked! (1/50)
Quest Updated! Survive the Adventurer’s Guild Class Selection Examination and be assigned a new class! Congratulations! You survived round one! But that is not how lutes are supposed to be used. Come on, you can do better than that! Prepare yourself for round two!
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The weapons and corpses sank into the ground.
I looked down at the lute in my hands and sighed. While it didn’t hold the deadly edge of the sword or spear, it did feel right.
As I flipped it around and held it correctly, something clicked. I felt an affinity for the lute, the knowledge I had of the guitar twisting in my mind, changing to fit the similar–yet vastly different–instrument.
Three rectangular boxes of information appeared in the air in front of me. A timer appeared above the central box, counting down from a minute. Each box contained an image and a description.
The left box depicted a lute laying amidst a bed of roses.
Noble Provocateur. Either through honeyed words or swift strikes, members of this class are found in the courtly circles of every kingdom. Specialises in unexpected violence, espionage, and information gathering. This is a bard class.
Grants boost to Charisma and a skill, Tip of the Tongue.
Loose Lips. Provides a temporary boost to likeability and faction of a chosen target, making them more likely to provide information. Lasts for half an hour. Targets may be aware of the mental manipulation after the skill wears off, depending on a number of factors.
The central box showed a silhouetted figure with the distinct shape of a lute in one hand. The other hand was extended out in a punch, with explosive lines radiating from the fist. Another silhouette was being blown back from the impact.
Bombastic Busker! This musical entertainer excels at explosive entertainment! Capable of quickly learning a wide array of songs and bringing a bang to the party! This is a Bard class.
Grants enhanced explosion size and radius and a skill, Beginner’s Luck.
Beginner’s Luck: Guaranteed success on the first performance of a song.
The last box depicted a chair being broken across a creature’s face.
Berzerking Opportunist! Anything can be a weapon in the right hands! Sword stuck in a skeleton’s ribs? Slime partially melt your club? No problem! Grab whatever is nearby and get to swinging! This is a martial class.
Enhanced damage with improvised weapons and a skill, Hands Off!
Hands Off! Infuse any object wielded with weaponized intent with increased durability. Slightly increases damage done by objects infused with this skill.
I glanced at the timer, now more than halfway gone, then back between the three classes. My eyes lingered on the Bombastic Busker. Busker. Hah. I guess that is what I had been before giving up on my dreams of supporting myself with music. The market, already difficult to break into, had become all but impossible once music could be generated by the click of a button. I had spent several years travelling the country with a backpack and my guitar, eking out a meager existence, frustrated with my inability to find a foothold in the profession.
They were hard times, but I’d been happy. Until my grandma died and I went home to help Aiden take care of my grandfather, who was paralyzed from a stroke.
The timer continued counting down. Ten seconds. Nine.
Explosions were always nice, too. I nodded, selecting Bombastic Busker. The informational displays dissipated into countless tiny pixels at my selection.
Something materialized on the table, illuminated for a moment by a pillar of light and accompanied by the sound of muffled explosions. A single sheet of paper—a bardic song.
I knew how to read sheet music, but something altogether new happened when I read this parchment. Additional information about the song displayed in a small pop-up adjacent to the paper.
Kinetic Overload. Stringed Instrument Motif.
Successful completion of this motif grants the Kinetic Overload buff to the performer’s target for 20 seconds. Enchants the target with four charges. Impact releases charges based on the intent of the wielder. Charges deal explosive damage upon impact. Objects infused with Kinetic Overload may be destroyed. Only one instance of Kinetic Overload can be maintained at a time.
Songs do not consume mana, instead acting as ritual spells that require performance completion. The strength of the song is based on the quality of the performance.
Learn Kinetic Overload?
I selected ‘yes,’ and the paper disintegrated into countless pixels as the knowledge filled my mind. Unlike in the real world, where I would read the sheet music and perform the appropriate notes, the information for this song appeared in my mind, as if I had already dedicated an hour or more to the study of it. I didn’t have the familiarity that comes with an oft performed melody, but the foundation of knowledge for the song had been planted directly into my mind.
How? How could they plug information directly into my mind? Was the knowledge real, or some cleverly fabricated facsimile? Would I retain this knowledge when I logged out? Notification appeared and pulled me from my thoughts.
Stringed Instrument skill obtained! (1/50)
Skill synchronization initiated…
Skill synchronization complete!
Stringed Instrument has reached 50/50! Skill has evolved into Stringed Instrument Mastery (1/100)
New active skill unlocked! Hastened Song (1/50)
Hastened Song. Quicken song tempo, decreasing performance time while increasing performance difficulty. Increased levels lower the difficulty in relation to speed. Minimal cost: 5 Mana, with incremental increase in speed and difficulty based on amount of mana used.
Stringed Instrument Mastery has leveled up! (46/100)
Kinetic Overload added to Song Repertoire.
I blinked at the skill notifications a few times. Apparently my skills with guitar in the real world had somehow translated to stringed instrument skills in Veil? I had bypassed an entire tier of skill and was nearly a quarter through the next. And skills could evolve? That was very interesting, but I chided myself on the distracting thoughts. More pressing matters currently required my attention.
My mind raced with the implications and ways that I could use this skill. I knew some other challenge was coming, the quest update had said round two was coming. I readied myself.
The description said that the item I used it on could be destroyed in the explosion. I didn’t want to risk the lute, which appeared to be on its last limb already. I pulled the knife out of my inventory and sat it on the table.
I began performing Kinetic Overload, targeting the knife. The knowledge of how to play sprung from my mind, surprising me. Beginner’s Luck took over and guided my hands through the performance. The motif was a brief, chaotic series of notes that I plucked and strummed. My body knew what to do, which motions to make, but it required concentration.
It only took a couple seconds, but my heart soared in that brief period of time. Music. Music that I could fight with?! Excitement pumped endorphins through my body. A red glow emanated from the dagger laying on the pedestal.
In the distance, the roots once again shifted as a portal opened. A ten-foot-long, snake-like humanoid slithered out. It had a muscular torso and four arms, each wielding a curved blade. I heard Helga curse behind me.
“Shite, that’s a naga hatchling,” she crowed, cheering from the wall like the was ringside at a wrestling match.
I picked up the dagger as the naga began slithering towards me. Its rough scales scratched against the earthen floor, the sound making my skin crawl. It came for me with deadly, graceful speed.
Dungeon Hauler Kuma.
+Information!
- Stuff!
- More stuff!
- EVEN MORE STUFF!!!
- Isn't this cool?
- SCIENCE!