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Adam woke up, slightly surprised to be in a hospital bed. Then he remembered; the training. Last evening had been particularly severe - he was even wearing a medieval-esque hospital gown instead of his normal attire. And just when the Druid was about to get up to grab his clothes, a doctor walked in.
The man, a human with gray hair and a stern demeanor, sighed at the younger one. “Mr. Phillips, you really have to stop coming in like this.”
“You know I can’t stop.” Adam shook his head, a little annoyed to be retreading old ground. “The-”
“Whatever this thing is isn’t worth you dying over. It will happen. From what the nurses say, you were lucky to ‘get away’ with the pain you did.”
“This thing will be the difference between the city standing or burning!” This burst of anger surprised the red-eyed man slightly, but he maintained his rhetorical momentum all the same. “Just one of the Queen's agents nearly killed my friends. Who knows what this invasion will bring? I won't let Valheim fall.”
The doctor and his patient's eyes locked for a few seconds before the former reluctantly conceded. “...Fine.”
They spoke for a little while longer, then the Druid gathered his things and decided to get breakfast at the Mended Drum.
-----
It turned out that Adam's timing was pretty good, because Barracker Kassel had gotten there slightly after he had ordered his pancakes, bacon and eggs. It was pleasant conversation and food, and the Paladin had been describing the progress him and his team were making. The Druid marked his approval with a smile and nod, happy for his friend. When the vampire described the red-eyed man's work and its impact, the latter answered modestly.
“I appreciate the kind words, though I'm not doing anything anyone else couldn't do.” Maybe not technically true, but the fisherman wasn't the sort to brag about himself, and he wasn't doing any of this to show off. And speaking of that…
The new addition to his magical arsenal was also not being done for accolades, and Adam didn't want to make his friend worry. How to answer honestly without lying about it?
“Oh, actually just some training. Not a big deal, really.”
Barracker's other question really was the most important thing. And this one, at least, could be answered without causing too much concern.
“I’m mentally ready for this, I think. I probably won't be commanding men like you are, so it's different, but I resolved myself to do what was right when I saw that letter. Right now, that means defending this place and saving as many people as I can. Of course, I don't enjoy ending lives in the process and I don't think I'll ever get used to huge battles, but if it's for the greater good then I'm good knowing I'm doing the right thing. How about you?”
However his friend answered, Adam would listen intently, then follow up with the following after responding:
“What did you think of that letter, anyway?” The Druid knew the Paladin was from Mytheria and therefore knew more about the Witch Queen than the rest of Second Chance. And more importantly, the youngest member of the team had not really asked anyone about that message since he spoke with MacKensie.
No time like the present to change that!
The man, a human with gray hair and a stern demeanor, sighed at the younger one. “Mr. Phillips, you really have to stop coming in like this.”
“You know I can’t stop.” Adam shook his head, a little annoyed to be retreading old ground. “The-”
“Whatever this thing is isn’t worth you dying over. It will happen. From what the nurses say, you were lucky to ‘get away’ with the pain you did.”
“This thing will be the difference between the city standing or burning!” This burst of anger surprised the red-eyed man slightly, but he maintained his rhetorical momentum all the same. “Just one of the Queen's agents nearly killed my friends. Who knows what this invasion will bring? I won't let Valheim fall.”
The doctor and his patient's eyes locked for a few seconds before the former reluctantly conceded. “...Fine.”
They spoke for a little while longer, then the Druid gathered his things and decided to get breakfast at the Mended Drum.
-----
It turned out that Adam's timing was pretty good, because Barracker Kassel had gotten there slightly after he had ordered his pancakes, bacon and eggs. It was pleasant conversation and food, and the Paladin had been describing the progress him and his team were making. The Druid marked his approval with a smile and nod, happy for his friend. When the vampire described the red-eyed man's work and its impact, the latter answered modestly.
“I appreciate the kind words, though I'm not doing anything anyone else couldn't do.” Maybe not technically true, but the fisherman wasn't the sort to brag about himself, and he wasn't doing any of this to show off. And speaking of that…
“What have you got planned for today, more of the same?”
The new addition to his magical arsenal was also not being done for accolades, and Adam didn't want to make his friend worry. How to answer honestly without lying about it?
“Oh, actually just some training. Not a big deal, really.”
Barracker's other question really was the most important thing. And this one, at least, could be answered without causing too much concern.
“I’m mentally ready for this, I think. I probably won't be commanding men like you are, so it's different, but I resolved myself to do what was right when I saw that letter. Right now, that means defending this place and saving as many people as I can. Of course, I don't enjoy ending lives in the process and I don't think I'll ever get used to huge battles, but if it's for the greater good then I'm good knowing I'm doing the right thing. How about you?”
However his friend answered, Adam would listen intently, then follow up with the following after responding:
“What did you think of that letter, anyway?” The Druid knew the Paladin was from Mytheria and therefore knew more about the Witch Queen than the rest of Second Chance. And more importantly, the youngest member of the team had not really asked anyone about that message since he spoke with MacKensie.
No time like the present to change that!
After many hours of effort cutting lumber for the upcoming siege, the work day had ended. Josh and the others invited Adam to join them for drinks, but the Druid had to decline. He had something to arrange, and it should probably be done sooner rather than later. The red-eyed man did promise to join them tomorrow night though, which satisfied the group. It wasn't a big deal to him, but they had all been impressed by the young caster who stuck around after spending most of his magic to help out. It was the least they could do, the team had concurred.
-----
As Adam walked through Valheim, he heard part of a conversation. Unfortunately, one of the voices was instantly recognizable, annoying as usual.
“...and supposedly they're really strong, this Second Chance. Have you heard of them?”
The voice came from someone in a crowd of eight or nine people. In front and center of the group was a familiar-looking gnome with a curly mustache who responded, clearly thrilled with being the focus of attention.
“Yeah, I've met them, and Second Rate is a better name for that Bronze Tier trash. My team got assigned an escort mission for them once. Despite managing to sneak them into the city for Gods-knows why reason, the Fighter and vampire Paladin almost attacked me. I scared them off though.” Xavier twirled his mustache for a few seconds, letting this “fact” sink in, before continuing. “The swordsman was vulgar, and the type of idiot who's only good for taking damage. And can you believe it, a vampire Paladin? It's a disgrace to the Gods. Must be some kind of Witch Queen agent, though infiltrating a party of weaklings is hardly tough. Not like me, the genius Druid of Silver Arrow. I'll become platinum soon en-ugh!”
The gnome’s story was interrupted by him getting tripped by a small vine, carefully risen from a crack in the brick pavement of Valheim. And walking up to the fallen person was Adam Phillips, looking down upon him both figuratively and literally.
“I think a real genius would have sensed that plant, like the half dozen pinwheels four houses east.” There was a hint of humor laced in this statement, unlike the next - that would be pure seriousness, spoken with a tone daring the gnome to try anything. “Listen, you can insult me all you want, but nobody messes with my friends.” Saying this, the red-eyed man took his leave, resuming his walk to his destination.
Adam wasn't the only being there with a red feature now, as the laughter of the crowd caused Xavier's face to blush. And after the gnome made a flimsy excuse and left, he realized he was heading east. Reluctantly he looked at the building the fisherman indicated and was horrified to find six gold and silver flowers by the front door.
-----
As Adam walked through Valheim, he heard part of a conversation. Unfortunately, one of the voices was instantly recognizable, annoying as usual.
“...and supposedly they're really strong, this Second Chance. Have you heard of them?”
The voice came from someone in a crowd of eight or nine people. In front and center of the group was a familiar-looking gnome with a curly mustache who responded, clearly thrilled with being the focus of attention.
“Yeah, I've met them, and Second Rate is a better name for that Bronze Tier trash. My team got assigned an escort mission for them once. Despite managing to sneak them into the city for Gods-knows why reason, the Fighter and vampire Paladin almost attacked me. I scared them off though.” Xavier twirled his mustache for a few seconds, letting this “fact” sink in, before continuing. “The swordsman was vulgar, and the type of idiot who's only good for taking damage. And can you believe it, a vampire Paladin? It's a disgrace to the Gods. Must be some kind of Witch Queen agent, though infiltrating a party of weaklings is hardly tough. Not like me, the genius Druid of Silver Arrow. I'll become platinum soon en-ugh!”
The gnome’s story was interrupted by him getting tripped by a small vine, carefully risen from a crack in the brick pavement of Valheim. And walking up to the fallen person was Adam Phillips, looking down upon him both figuratively and literally.
“I think a real genius would have sensed that plant, like the half dozen pinwheels four houses east.” There was a hint of humor laced in this statement, unlike the next - that would be pure seriousness, spoken with a tone daring the gnome to try anything. “Listen, you can insult me all you want, but nobody messes with my friends.” Saying this, the red-eyed man took his leave, resuming his walk to his destination.
Adam wasn't the only being there with a red feature now, as the laughter of the crowd caused Xavier's face to blush. And after the gnome made a flimsy excuse and left, he realized he was heading east. Reluctantly he looked at the building the fisherman indicated and was horrified to find six gold and silver flowers by the front door.
After getting the answer to his question and making sure that Drake had a handle on basic magic, Adam left the younger Druid so the older one could contribute more to Valheim's defense. Sure, he was basically unable to cast, but that didn't mean there was nothing to do. Instead, the 18-year old approached a group of lumbermen. He saw one drinking water, presumably on break; the worker was a human male, probably in his early 20's, with a muscular build and a big black beard on his face. The man glanced at the Druid, then spoke to him.
“Yes?”
It was brief and to the point, but not rude. Adam could understand that sort of thing, and felt he should respond in kind.
“I was wondering if you guys needed any help. I'm out of magic, but I can still swing an axe.”
“Well alright, take this and we'll see how you do.” Handing a hatchet to the Druid and pointing to a pile of logs, Josh's tone seemed slightly skeptical, but curious as to what this strangely-dressed fellow could do. The fishing pole was impressive, though the rest of the young man confused him.
A minute later, that skepticism had been put to rest, with the Michigander slicing wood as effectively as anyone else there, skills honed by doing similar work countless times in the woods Up North.
In Mytheria these skills would help defend Valheim. Back home, they just helped the family roast marshmallows for s'mores. The thought of nights by the fire made Adam smile, but he kept working, knowing all the same what was at stake.
“Yes?”
It was brief and to the point, but not rude. Adam could understand that sort of thing, and felt he should respond in kind.
“I was wondering if you guys needed any help. I'm out of magic, but I can still swing an axe.”
“Well alright, take this and we'll see how you do.” Handing a hatchet to the Druid and pointing to a pile of logs, Josh's tone seemed slightly skeptical, but curious as to what this strangely-dressed fellow could do. The fishing pole was impressive, though the rest of the young man confused him.
A minute later, that skepticism had been put to rest, with the Michigander slicing wood as effectively as anyone else there, skills honed by doing similar work countless times in the woods Up North.
In Mytheria these skills would help defend Valheim. Back home, they just helped the family roast marshmallows for s'mores. The thought of nights by the fire made Adam smile, but he kept working, knowing all the same what was at stake.
@xenon I was looking for
Who knew you were predicting the future lol
and found something that seems relevant:
<Snipped quote by Zool>
Almost every dice roll has been kind to you since this RP began. You are due a Nat 1!
Your choices, clever and creative posts make it impossible with all the 'Roll with Advantage' and Lowered DC's you rack up. Sometimes I wish misfortune on you lol. Never happens though. So many planned segments just completely skipped over
Who knew you were predicting the future lol
“Wow, that was incredible! I've never seen anything like that!”
Adam turned his head and saw the source of this statement - a male elf of some sort with tan skin that, based on Earth standards, couldn't have been older than twenty or so - and thanked him.
“How long have you been a Druid for?” the stranger asked. “Uh, I'm Drake, by the way.”
“Adam Phillips, of Second Chance, nice to meet you,” the red-eyed man responded, shaking Drake's hand, “and just a while now, no big deal really.” The deflection for the sake of humility was something the man was grateful for in hindsight, because of what the elf said next.
“That's good. I just got this yesterday.” Drake held up his source crystal, then went on. “If, uh, you have time, could you maybe teach me how to do that? I can barely grow a shrub.” The embarrassment in his voice was palpable, despite it being something completely understandable for the American.
Adam pretended not to notice, smiling while he spoke. “Of course. I barely have any magic left though, so you'll have to visualize what I'm saying at times. Now, don't worry about growing a bunch of trees at once…”
-----
In an hour or so, the elf was creating singular oak trees with ease. Adam was happy for his impromptu student, but he couldn't help but sense that something else was bothering him, so the more experienced Druid asked Drake if he was okay.
After a moment's reluctance, the novice caster answered. “It's, well, it's all so much. Before yesterday I was working in a bakery, and now I'm expected to fight an army? I just don't know if I can do it.”
“I understand,” Adam replied empathetically. “I had my powers given to me in an unfortunate and unexpected time also.” That it was after his own death might have been far-fetched to the elf, so the man did not include that detail. “Still, with the help of my friends, I was able to help a town hold off a skeleton and ogre invasion. Nobody expects you to do this alone. Just do the best you can and we'll all make sure the Witch Queen doesn't win here.”
The little speech seemed to help Drake somewhat, who looked and felt more reassured. “Thank you for everything, Adam” the elf responded. “If you ever need anything, please let me know.
“No problem.” This time it was the fisherman who was a little nervous. “Actually, I do have a question for you…”
Adam turned his head and saw the source of this statement - a male elf of some sort with tan skin that, based on Earth standards, couldn't have been older than twenty or so - and thanked him.
“How long have you been a Druid for?” the stranger asked. “Uh, I'm Drake, by the way.”
“Adam Phillips, of Second Chance, nice to meet you,” the red-eyed man responded, shaking Drake's hand, “and just a while now, no big deal really.” The deflection for the sake of humility was something the man was grateful for in hindsight, because of what the elf said next.
“That's good. I just got this yesterday.” Drake held up his source crystal, then went on. “If, uh, you have time, could you maybe teach me how to do that? I can barely grow a shrub.” The embarrassment in his voice was palpable, despite it being something completely understandable for the American.
Adam pretended not to notice, smiling while he spoke. “Of course. I barely have any magic left though, so you'll have to visualize what I'm saying at times. Now, don't worry about growing a bunch of trees at once…”
-----
In an hour or so, the elf was creating singular oak trees with ease. Adam was happy for his impromptu student, but he couldn't help but sense that something else was bothering him, so the more experienced Druid asked Drake if he was okay.
After a moment's reluctance, the novice caster answered. “It's, well, it's all so much. Before yesterday I was working in a bakery, and now I'm expected to fight an army? I just don't know if I can do it.”
“I understand,” Adam replied empathetically. “I had my powers given to me in an unfortunate and unexpected time also.” That it was after his own death might have been far-fetched to the elf, so the man did not include that detail. “Still, with the help of my friends, I was able to help a town hold off a skeleton and ogre invasion. Nobody expects you to do this alone. Just do the best you can and we'll all make sure the Witch Queen doesn't win here.”
The little speech seemed to help Drake somewhat, who looked and felt more reassured. “Thank you for everything, Adam” the elf responded. “If you ever need anything, please let me know.
“No problem.” This time it was the fisherman who was a little nervous. “Actually, I do have a question for you…”
Yesterday had been exhausting. Among the tons of Mytherian plants to pick from, it turned out Adam picked one of the more difficult ones to create. Sure, there had been a few interesting ones that might have been easier, such as the hauntingly nicknamed “sailor's scourge,” but the one he had chosen was more concerning for the enemy…if learning about it didn't kill him first, that is.
This morning, when he had learned from James that all Druids were to go to Golden Tree Park, the fisherman had wondered why. Listening to Michael Fern explain what was to be done, and seeing all the people there, led to an understanding: this would be another tiring day, only somewhat differently so. The effort looked like a sort of medieval and magical assembly line, ranging from people moving acorns in to people moving lumber out. It was impressive, really.
Sure, Adam could have just grown a few trees and left. It wasn't like he didn't have a reason. This new plant was tough to learn, and the red-eyed man knew he needed more practice. But that was not how he did things. The effort to defend Valheim needed all the help it could get, so Adam found an unoccupied spot and began casting.
After creating a dozen or so oak trees, the Druid felt something surprising: boredom. “How is creating living matter from nothing dull?” and “am I starting to take my powers for granted?” were two questions that ran through his mind. Perhaps the challenge from yesterday gave him a desire to expand his Druid abilities and try new things - certainly a better take than “this is simply repetitive,” which made him feel lousy about himself.
In the spirit of the former, Adam decided to try growing multiple trees at once. He had made four roots in an earlier battle, so he started there. It became simple after a time, so he branched out to six. And eventually eight. Each one was tougher than the last, but still doable.
Ten was his limit, for now. One for each finger. Perhaps it was being in a situation where he didn't have to focus on anything else besides casting that let the red-eyed man do that much, he thought. Whatever it was, he allowed himself to simply focus on the magic. It was a feeling almost reminiscent of his time on Kragstone Peak, and the meditative nature of the casting made the Druid feel like he was casting more proficiently than usual.
This state of mind kept Adam from realizing something fairly obvious until he was done casting; towards the end, someone had been watching him.
This morning, when he had learned from James that all Druids were to go to Golden Tree Park, the fisherman had wondered why. Listening to Michael Fern explain what was to be done, and seeing all the people there, led to an understanding: this would be another tiring day, only somewhat differently so. The effort looked like a sort of medieval and magical assembly line, ranging from people moving acorns in to people moving lumber out. It was impressive, really.
Sure, Adam could have just grown a few trees and left. It wasn't like he didn't have a reason. This new plant was tough to learn, and the red-eyed man knew he needed more practice. But that was not how he did things. The effort to defend Valheim needed all the help it could get, so Adam found an unoccupied spot and began casting.
After creating a dozen or so oak trees, the Druid felt something surprising: boredom. “How is creating living matter from nothing dull?” and “am I starting to take my powers for granted?” were two questions that ran through his mind. Perhaps the challenge from yesterday gave him a desire to expand his Druid abilities and try new things - certainly a better take than “this is simply repetitive,” which made him feel lousy about himself.
In the spirit of the former, Adam decided to try growing multiple trees at once. He had made four roots in an earlier battle, so he started there. It became simple after a time, so he branched out to six. And eventually eight. Each one was tougher than the last, but still doable.
Ten was his limit, for now. One for each finger. Perhaps it was being in a situation where he didn't have to focus on anything else besides casting that let the red-eyed man do that much, he thought. Whatever it was, he allowed himself to simply focus on the magic. It was a feeling almost reminiscent of his time on Kragstone Peak, and the meditative nature of the casting made the Druid feel like he was casting more proficiently than usual.
This state of mind kept Adam from realizing something fairly obvious until he was done casting; towards the end, someone had been watching him.
I need to start writing a little earlier in the week xD
I can relate to this today lol.
That was probably the shortest post I've written in ages. The foreshadowing was planned of course, but everything only really came together like half a day ago, so I'm still brainstorming to an extent.
The only thing Adam had thought to do with his day was send the letter, really. It wasn't even a long process like he suspected it could be. So what else to do? He didn't think he needed any supplies. There was something he wanted to ask a certain someone, but he didn't think he had the nerve yet. Absent-mindedly, the Druid sat down against a tree, taking in the view of the people walking down an ordinary Valheim street. At least he had managed to thank his friend who had taught him things and recommended some-
Some books!
Adam took out one of them and went to the index. He knew what sort of plant he wanted to learn about, and would search his little library until he found it. Then, well…then it'd be time to start casting.
Some books!
Adam took out one of them and went to the index. He knew what sort of plant he wanted to learn about, and would search his little library until he found it. Then, well…then it'd be time to start casting.
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