“I heard rumors that Brianna fell for one of the Torokin bartenders who used to work for her. He brought a son from a previous relationship,” she said.

  “Why bring us here, Brianna? As much as I’m flattered you trust us enough to show us your family, I don’t get why you didn’t have us at the Stumbling Ogre with the rest of the rabble.”

  She gave him a soft look. “Him.” She nodded at Al. “He’s an elf with no doubt hefty bounties on his head, and so long as there is division amongst the races as there are now, I won’t be able to bring my son into Ollar, let alone Centrulia, for that matter. I long for a time where I can bring him up to the markets to play with the other children…without him being judged.” She playfully kissed the giggling boy’s snout. “As long as the Bloodstone exists, and the stonists follow them, Ray here isn’t safe,” she smiled at the calf. “I may not be rich, but this, my adopted son and his grandfather, is all I’ve got. “You have come closer to anyone in God Maker knows how long to sticking it to the Bloodstone.”

  She set the boy down, and he ran over to the older Torokin. Rook studied him for a moment. Grey crept in around his eyes and snout; the yellow of weathered bone was evident in his unkempt horns. He was aged. I wonder if Mara knows them.

  “Yes, maybe there are worse issues in Yorthon, there are still towns like Stain and Berg, great beasts that roam the wilds and Infernal Forge races.” She shook her head. “Now to make matters worse a conjured, a Dawn Elf, torokin warrior, and a councilman’s daughter are here in my personal space,” she said with a sniff. “Worse yet, I can’t shake the feeling of a cold coming. Call it a mother’s intuition or the crazy ramblings of a stressed-out tavern owner, but the cold is evil, and it’s only a matter of time before it washes over the world. Call me a lunatic, but I feel like you may have been placed here to help, there’s just too many coincidences for you not to,” she said, staring directly at Rook.”

  “The little things,” Rook muttered.

  Reina gave him a curious look, Alderion was unmoved, stoic as he’d come to know.

  “Start with little things,” Rook repeated. “It’s the elephant method, you have to eat it one bite at a time. There is no other way to do it, and with these Bloodstone I can’t take them as I am, now the only way is to get stronger.”

  “I have the amenities down here to help. This place was a Sentinel safehouse a long time ago, so it was given the facade of a tavern. Eventually, after Teru was sealed away, this place’s mission was accomplished, and there was no need for the safehouse.” She looked around and nodded appreciatively. “However, I found a new purpose,” she said, settling her eyes on the calf.

  The old Torokin came walking over. Step. Cane. Hobble step. Rook stared at the old bull’s legs. The mangled limb merely stayed limp as a sausage casing full of mashed potatoes. He frowned.

  “Something plaguing your mind?” Al asked.

  “Yeah, just thinking about Torokin’s gimp leg. It’s so sad it’s almost funny.” Rook answered, scratching at his head.

  “You find humor in misfortune?” Alderion sniffed.

  “It’s a bad habit my military taught me, a coping mechanism. The Army teaches gallows humor as a means to survive.

  “So do the Dawnblades,” Alderion said, nodding with approval.

  Brianna urged them to follow her around the room, giving them the tour of the place. Single bath, which they would have to take turns, at least with Reina. There was a large training room down another staircase, where they held giant barrels of ale and wine. Four wood dummies stood against a stone wall, wooden helmets were marred with countless arrowhead scars, slashes, and blood presumably from those training. Next to the doorway were swords, axes, bows, and others.

  “Homey Brianna. I’m honored you’d let us stay here.”

  She smiled at him and shook her head. “My brother knew your group was going to be special, Maker’s hell, we all did.” Brianna left them to attend to her son.

  “We need to get you home, Al, and find a way to get much stronger.” Rook thought about the journal. “If I am not good enough to stop from being kidnapped, I am not worthy of these tricks I learned,” Rook said, with burning eyes. He hated being too weak.

  Reina got cleaned up, looking like a new person without the week’s worth of grime. “Did I clean up well.” She asked, Brianna while flipping her hair.

  Rook took in the enhancer. “I’ll say.” Rook paused. “That, that was an inside thought.” Rook sighed. “Well, I’m off to drown myself in the tub. See you.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Alderion and he walked into the small room. Rook decided to bathe first; the worries melted with his grime, and he felt good for what seemed like forever. Al followed suit and then joined him in the communal tub. His emaciated form was a bit concerning. His bone structure jutted out from the malnourishment, giving him a skeletal look. The pale blue skin was stretched thin over his body and it made Rook cringe. The elf stared at Rook, with his milky white eyes, peeking beneath the ragged flesh that was his scar. He almost looks ashamed. Rook was determined to get the man back to his former glory, whatever that was.

  “We’ll find out what happened, Al. The worry is carved into your face.” In this light, Al’s face was fully visible, and Rook tried his best to face him head-on.

  “Is it gruesome?” Al asked with a bit of hesitation, probing the scar with his hand.

  “It’s fine,” Rook lied. “You’re probably not going to win any beauty pageants any time soon, so it may be best to keep the blindfold on. I can’t fix how the scar looks, but I’ll buy you a new blindfold.

  “You have my thanks, Rook. But I will keep this one,” Al said.

  They finished the bath and walked out into the room.

  Reina was sitting at the bar speaking to Mara, the warrior Torokin busied herself testing the edge of her greatsword.

  “Well, you both certainly cleaned up as well. Pure bliss, wasn’t it?” She stretched, extending her arms overhead. “If it hadn’t been for both of you, I would’ve napped in there.”

  “Speaking of, I am exhausted.”

  “Your room is next to the training room,” Brianna said, absentmindedly as she played with her kid.

  After a few good nights to Brianna’s family, they went to the last room where four twin-sized beds lay side by side.

  “How low I’ve fallen,” Al muttered to himself.

  Rook stared at the proud elf, blind as a bat and still upset because he had to bunk with the rest of the party.

  “You know, Alderion, there are many in this city that sleep on the hard stones outside, despite there being comforts like this,” Mara said, laying the sword beside her bunk. “I’ve seen it so many times, the Walla, the debt, and then their living on the streets.

  “Perfectly put, Mara,” Rook said, taking a seat on his bunk. “Now I’ll take all the gear we have, while we’re wearing the clothes Brianna so generously lent.” He accepted their gear into the astral space to be cleaned.

  “What do you need with all the equipment?” The elf asked, with a curious tone.

  “I’m cleaning it. I put it in my inventory, and it comes out spotless,” Rook said, slowly handing back the gear. “If you’d allow, I’d like to clean your blindfold.”

  The elf slowly removed the red covering, handing it to Rook. “No tricks?”

  “No, Al, no tricks.” Rook cleaned the grimy covering and held it in his hand for a moment, inspecting the worn black symbol on the front. “It looks like a ninja’s headband,” Rook said, under his breath.

  “A what?” Reina came over, inspected it, and drew the design in her book.

  “Al, was this a headband at one point?” He asked, staring at the design across the band, a symbol of a rayless sun cresting over a mountain. “What does it mean?” he muttered to himself.

  The elf paused, staring at Rook like he just read a secret out loud. “Yes…” He held his hand out for the band. “The black color is for the dark before the dawn, the sun peeking over the dagger mountain range is the Dawn, we harness our power from.”

  “It’s nice,” Reina said, leaning in close to the band.

  Al wrapped it around his face and lay down, no doubt unwilling to say anymore about his past.

  He lay in the middle bunk, half because he didn’t fully trust Alderion just yet, the other half because he felt safer near Reina and Mara. Staring at the ceiling, Rook listened to the soft thump of rhythmic stomping that came muffled through the floor. He fell asleep in minutes.

  Would you like to view daily summary?

  Yes/ No

  Yes.

  Rook stats

  Samuel Rook Merrell

  Level 21

  Rank (Bronze)

  Strength level (27)17 +10 (Orb of Subjugation)

  Dexterity level (15) 5 +10 (Orb of Subjugation)

  Arcane Wisdom level (24) 9 + 15 (Sentinel Ring) (Orb of Subjugation)

  Charisma level (20)10 +10 (Orb of Subjugation)

  Constitution level (18) 3 +15 (Sentinel Ring) (Orb of Subjugation)

  Force multiplier 10 of 15 skill points

  Winds of Change

  8% increase in Attramancy efficacy

  Strength of the mountain

  Heavier objects are easier to move with Attramancy

  Barrage

  When using attromancy, barrage allows the caster to control multiple objects from point of origin.

  Current Quests

  Find the Sacred Cipher

  Join the circuits

  War for Yorthon

  Reunite Alderion Kai with the Dawndrasil

  The darkness of his vision opened into smoky white, and he found himself floating once again in the ether that was the purgatory space he began this world in. A strong nagging stirred in his gut, telling him to float upwards, to will his way through the space. Concentrating, Rook floated up towards the infinite fog. To nothing. It wasn’t long before his body collided with a bubble-like film in the sky. Upon breaking through, Rook met face to face with the man from the forest. He was taller and broader than Rook expected, with the build of someone who had a labor-intensive job. His bright blue eyes regarded Rook with a childlike amusement, one comparable to seeing a fly try to buzz its way out of a spider's web.

  No fucking way.

  The grey-bearded mage smiled brightly at him, extending a hand out. This freaking guy’s back. The anxiety, the need to go back down, the fear he felt over restarting hit him all at once, and his stomach knotted into a twisted mess.

  “You bastard.” Conflicting feelings flooded into Rook all at once. The loss of his old life, the gain of a new one, new friends, and the loss of new friends. What was most annoying was that he felt like there was no control over his own life.

  “I’m known by many names, God Maker to the coalition races, Tethros to the Orcs, trolls, and other infernal races. So many names and titles, but I prefer Burrlegast.”

  “God Maker?!”

  END OF BOOK ONE