3. The Test II

3. The Test II

“Alright, rest time is over,” Paul said, calling for the pair. “Grab your packs, we’re heading over to the melee field.”

The two grabbed their packs, with Adam giving a quick glance into his pack to see if everything was unperturbed, and having seen that nothing was obviously moved, he followed the Vice Master to the other field on the opposite side of the Adventurer’s Guild. A few people were sparring with one another, and someone was watching, drinking some ale from a small cask.

Paul clapped his hands to gather their attention. “We’re going to need the field for these two youngsters.”

The other adventurers looked over to Jurot and Adam, seeing the Iyrman’s tattoos and nodding towards him.

“An Iyrman? Why do you even need to test him?” an adventurer asked.

“Formality,” another adventurer replied. “It’s not like he’ll fail the test, but they still need to do it.”

“I think you mean bureaucracy,” the tipsy adventurer corrected.

“Can’t it be a bit of both?”

Paul cleared his throat. “I’m trying to be polite.” He raised his brows expectantly.

The other adventurers finished with their sparring and stepped aside, though didn’t leave. Paul looked at them all, and they avoided his gaze, whistling innocently. Paul turned to face the pair behind him. “Are you two fine with an audience?”

“Let them see the glory of the Iyr!” Jurot exclaimed, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest.

“Sure,” Adam replied simply.

“If any of you interrupt,” Paul said, raising a clenched fist. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Understood.”

The tipsy adventurer sipped on his cask in response.

Paul led them to the rocks near the back of the field. There were six of them, from a small rock about the size of a person’s head, to a rock that was the size of an entire person’s torso.

“It’s a simple test. Lift up the rock, step forward ten steps, drop the rock. Start from the smallest and work your way up.” There wasn’t much more he needed to say.

“After you,” Adam said, motioning a hand.

Jurot nodded, grabbing the smallest rock, stepping forward ten times before dropping it. He looked to Paul, who nodded his head.

“You’ve passed the first rock, take a breather.” Paul’s eyes went to Adam. “You can pick it up and drop it back where Jurot picked it up.”

Athletics Check

D20 + 5 = 7 (2)

Adam squat down to grab the rock, and as he lifted it up, it slipped through his fingers, causing him to drop it on the floor. He looked back to Paul.

The Vice Master raised his brow. ‘Is that sword just for show?’ He wrote something down on the paper while the other adventurers chuckled between themselves.

Adam looked at his hands and then the rock. “Uh, I guess my hands were sweaty?” ‘There’s no way I can’t pick this up! I have almost maxed out strength!’

“Whether you can pick it up or not also matters,” Paul said. “If you pick something precious up during a quest and drop it, well...”

Adam flushed red. ‘Well, damn. That’s just like my terrible luck, isn’t it? Even with these godly stats, I’m going to end up dead somehow because my luck is so crap.’ “Can I try again, please?” Adam asked.

Paul nodded. “Go ahead. I need to see how strong you actually are too.”

Adam squat down and lifted the rock up again, this time concentrating on his grip. He slowly shambled his way back towards where the rock originally lay, like a duck carrying an egg.

‘Come on, Adam! Get it together! You can do this!’

It was time to pick up the second rock, which Jurot managed with ease. His thighs strained slightly, his arms flexing, his back pulling taught. He lifted the rock up, carrying it like his precious baby, and stepped forward ten steps. Then he dropped his precious baby and flexed his pectoral muscles to everyone, smirking smugly at Adam.

Adam stretched and cracked his neck. “Come on, Adam. Come on.” He tried to psyche himself up. He squat slightly, wrapping his arms around the rock, and then tried to lift it up. Unfortunately for him, his thighs twitched and he almost dropped the rock. Instead, he fell over to his side.

The adventurer sipping on his cask spat out some of his ale, almost snorting on the alcohol as he watched Adam drop to his side.

Paul had to clench his jaw in order to stop himself from laughing, though the other adventurers didn’t even try to keep their laughter inside.

Jurot raised his brow, not at all impressed by the half elf. He had thought Adam could do at least that much, but it seemed that his hopes had been too high.

“What the hell!” Adam pulled off his helmet, red in the face. He stared at the rock, daggers shooting out of his eyes. “There’s no way I can’t beat you damn it!” He looked back at Paul for a moment, but dared not to look at what his expression was, instead he stared down at the rock again. ‘Damn it! Should I use Guidance? No, I shouldn’t reveal that too soon. Then again, I am going to reveal the fact that I have Flame Bolt later...’ He sighed.

“A half elf?”

Another adventurer whistled. “Don’t see many of them around.”

Paul threw them a look which quickly shut them up. “Do you think you can continue?”

Adam gave a thumbs up. “Let’s go.” He rolled onto his side and then hopped onto his feet, only to stumble and fall onto all fours.

‘Okay, no more athleticism from me for today.’

Thoroughly embarrassed, he hid his shame by donning his helmet. He grabbed his shield too, and felt for his wizard’s die, his arcane focus, before then drawing his sword.

“I’ll face the pair of you,” Paul said, drawing his sword. “You don’t need to hold back just because I’m an old man.” He smirked at the two eager youngsters, blade in hand, eager to play with them.

Battle Order

D20 + 1 = 14 (13)

Adam was trying to think about how he should approach the fight. ‘I could probably with a-‘

Jurot roared like a lion, muscles flexing as he turned red. The veins in his forehead bulged, spit flying out from the force of his mighty roar, his hand firmly gripped around his axe. He didn’t wait for Adam as he leapt forward, swinging his sword down with all his might.

Even Paul was taken aback by the sudden assault of the Iyrman, having prepared a number of moves to beat down the first attacked, but he managed to gather his bearing. His sword flew threw the air, hitting Jurot right in his forehead with his pommel.

However, Iyrmen didn’t allow someone to strike them for free, as Jurot’s axe cleaved into the breastplate. Paul grunted as he felt the axe sink into the metal, scratching it quite harshly as Jurot attacked with a heavy blow. The sound of steel on steel made the adventurers grin, an excitement filling the air.

“Two gold on Paul,” an adventurer said.

“Obviously Paul’s going to win, you idiot.”

“Four copper for your two gold?” the tipsy adventurer asked, still having some wits about him.

“Nevermind.” The adventurer shrivelled up, pouting at everyone.

“I didn’t expect you to be so eager to fight, Jurot,” Paul said, chuckling to himself. He was chuckling because it was obvious how Jurot was going to react to a fight, and he shook his head at his own foolishness. “Not bad.”

“You’re having quite the conversation by yourself,” Adam said. “Though shouldn’t you also pay attention to me? I’m heart broken!” ‘I should use Hex just yet, I don’t want to give away all my cards.’

Attack (Flanking)

D20 + 5 + 1 = 7 (1)

Critical miss!

Adam’s cheek came back to bite him in the ass, as he circled around Paul to try and attack him from his flank, he swung back with his longsword. However, this was the first time he had ever used this longsword, and it hadn’t been long since he had been in this body. That, coupled with the gentleness numbness in his hand from carrying the rocks from earlier, his blade slipped out of his hand, flying backwards away from him, and clattering against the rock.

Adam looked back at the sword in disbelief, staring at the shame of his critical miss. ‘What? But why would you do this to me? Haven’t I failed enough? What is this suffering you give to me, Mistress Fate?’ A single tear ran down his cheek, hidden by his helmet.

“Should you really be looking away?” Paul asked, his blade gleaming as it shot towards Adam’s head. Adam brought up his shield just in time, the blade clattering off of his shield, but it snaked through the air, poised to strike his leg, but Adam quickly skid backwards away from it. The blade whistled as it spun around, and struck Jurot across the side of his elbow, causing his axe to narrowly miss Paul.

Attack (Flanking)

D20 + 5 + 1 = 17 (11)

Hit!

D6 + 4 = 9 (5)

9 damage!

Adam had been embarrassed by his luck all this time, causing him to sigh. Still taking the flank behind Paul, he clenched his fist. ‘Damn! Being so low levelled really sucks!’ He threw out a punch towards Paul. Since he had lost his sword, it would have been awkward to get it considering how close he was, and he couldn’t leave Jurot behind to face Paul alone.

Paul smiled when he saw Adam’s fist, barely stopping aside to try and dodge it. However, Adam’s fist managed to strike into the man’s shoulder, the blunt impact dispersing through his armour.

‘What was that?’ Paul quickly turned so that his side was to Adam, not stupid enough to reveal his back to an Iyrman, but now taking note of the new threat which had emerged. “That was one hell of a blow!” Paul laughed, preparing to strike once again.

Health: 12 -> 2

Two clean blows struck Adam clean, his blade rushing around his shield like a stream. Paul was no joke, his abilities were that of a great warrior. He jabbed Adam’s shoulders, though held back as to not cause too much damage, in order to give them both a chance to deal with him.

However, the experience between them was no small gap. It was like the pair were facing an insurmountable mountain, one which held the keys to their future.

Jurot wound up for another blow, but Paul stepped aside, Jurot’s axe now aimed towards Adam. Jurot, understanding that it wasn’t in his best interest to attack Adam, flexed the muscles in his forearm, and planted his feet firmly as he pulled his entire torso back, stopping the axe from striking towards his ally.

Even after those two jabs, Paul managed to strike Jurot in the back of his head with the pommel of his sword. Jurot fell down, no longer enraged as he tried to cling to consciousness. He failed, passing out before them.

Paul turned to face Adam properly, finally viewing him as a worthy threat. ‘That fist of his is-‘

Attack

D20 + 5 = 25 (20)

Critical hit!

2D6 + 4 = 14 (4, 6)

14 damage!

Paul’s thoughts were quickly cut off.

As Jurot had fallen to the ground, having stopped his attack from striking Adam, the half elf had already prepared to strike Paul. When Paul turned to face him, there was already a shadow of a fist approaching his face. Adam punched Paul right in the older man’s mug, partly due to his embarrassment clouding his judgement. Paul managed to tilt his head slightly down to avoid the blow from striking his nose too hard, and Adam’s fist slammed against the man’s hard skull, the ache spreading through his fist like wildfire.

Paul stepped away from Adam, and sheathed his sword. He reached up and set his nose back into place, wincing slightly, before looking to the half elf again. “That was quite the hit.”

“Sorry about that,” Adam said, dropping down to check on Jurot.

‘What’s he doing?’ Paul wondered.

Medicine

D20 + 1 = 2 (1)

Adam checked Jurot’s pulse. He waited. And waited. Still, he felt nothing, not even the slighted throb. “Jurot?” came out a panicked gasp from the half elf’s lips. ‘There’s no way he died again...’ He continued to try and find the Iyrman’s pulse, but there was nothing. “Jurot!”

Panic set into Adam as he saw the lifeless form of Jurot. “Jurot!” Adam grabbed the Iyrman and started to shake him, feeling his own body grow sickly cold. ‘Again? What? How? How did he manage to die again? Damn it! No! Fuck! Not like this! Jurot!”

JUROT NOOOOOOO NOT AGAIN!