Ever since Marcus had found himself in this world, He had not had time to think it would be one struggle after another. he had thought with his knowledge of a modern world, things would be different. He thought he would tell others what he knew--, teach them of modern ways, and they would see him as invaluable, and they would treat him like an honoured guest. Instead, what he found was the opposite. He was a beggar, a scavenger and, more recently, a self-taught magician. There was something that had him staying with the group, rooting for himself and the others against this world and not running to the first lord he saw walking the streets and asking for help.
Even with the little they had, they had cared for him, a stranger in a far younger body. They had not judged him, which was common. Since everyone else judged The half-bloods more harshly, he thought to see it their way. There was no need for harsh treatment amongst themselves.
Tainted.
That’s what the other races called people like him. They were relegated to the lowest of the low. Fate could have been kinder and given him a far better body. like one much older and one that was not of a half-blood, but even then, he would not allow such treatment to occur.
Even then, something pulled him towards Clara and her group. The fact that she ignored all the naysayers who laughed when she mentioned that she wanted to start a Noble house. There was something to be said about that, and Marcus respected that about the girl. And for this fact alone, he would have helped her. He hoped if she actually succeeded in her goal, he would learn about this world and why he was brought here. By no means was he selfless. It was just a state of being every human who finds themselves in an unknown place questions.
Marcus was abruptly struck out of his thoughts by Ivor’s deep voice. His mind had gone wandering off in the middle of the old man’s lessons.
“Warcrafters and Magicians are different. magicians are all about the flair. They waste their aether on casting the grand spell. warcrafters, we are different, we can not afford to do that.” he paused, opening his chest, before continuing his lecture, “unlike the spells of magicians, a Warcrafter should be able to cast spells in an instant. when they are defending they must adjust their spells just as they do for their stances.”
He looked back from his chest, where he kept what few belongings and weapons he had, and back at Marcus, who sat on one of two chairs in his cabin. Marcus nodded, paying attention to the lesson with every bit of attention he could muster.
“when you attack, if you need speed cast a hastening spell. then... when you are in reach switch to a spell that makes you strike harder.”
His eyes paused on the enchanting kit he had for the boy, and he looked sad before his eyes moved on. Ivor stood and walked back with a wooden sword that he placed on one side of table, and a brown book he place on the other side of the same table.
If the term magician was used for people who had enough Aether to cast stronger magic, then that meant warcrafters cast low-tier spells but at a more numerous and extensive rate.
From what Marcus could tell, with his high affinities, he could be a magician in this world. Although without the elemental affinity that was spoken of so highly, he doubted if he could be a capable magician.
And Warcraft magic, from what Ivor was saying, depended a lot more on the bloodline affinity.
“its just as you are thinking, as a warcrafter you must use simple spells. Spells that are more complicated are harder to keep in the head,” he gestured with a finger to his head.
“So what will you be teaching me”? Marcus asked. He knew that if he needed anything, he needed to survive first, and if that meant getting stronger, he would do so—if not to fight Thornan, to survive when this was all over.
“Come with me,” Ivor ordered, standing and grabbing his sword and the leather-bound book on the table.
When they reached outside, Ivor looked around on the ashy ground. With his feet, he dug around the earth, and as he walked, he stopped and picked up two sticks, each no taller than a man’s foreman.
Ivor placed his wooden practice sword and leather-bound grimoire at the side of the cabin, grabbed one of the sticks in his hand, examined it, and tossed it towards Marcus.
Marcus looked at the wooden stick in his hand, then at the old man, his eyes turned up questioningly.
“And what’s this for?”
“It’s your dagger… for now.” He held his stick out, “I will teach you the dagger.”
Marcus looked to the side and could not help but point out the wooden sword, “why don’t you teach me how to use a sword?”
“The sword… Do you have one?” the old man asked, knowing that Marcus had none. And as if confirming his suspicions, the boy shook his head.
“Good, if you were found with one much like those enchanted rings, the guards will subject you to the thieves crime and cripple you.”
No ordinary man was allowed to own a sword. It was a weapon of the privileged. a weapon for the nobles and knights. For their high lords and their chosen champions and when they killed a beast during a tide. they adorned their pummels with bronze heads in the beast’s image and kept them as a sign of their station and power. And if an ordinary man was found possessing such a weapon, they would have their hands cut off by the guard, and in the lost cities of Taelaris, a crippled man was a useless man. It was either this-- learning to fight like the thieves and muggers. or ending up dead on the streets of Srok when another thug found you weak and helpless with stumps for arms. The question was simple, life or death.
“Do you think I can fight Thornan with a dagger? " Marcus asked, sceptically looking at the stick in his hand.
“Thornan, the half-Goliath…,” Ivor scratched at his beards, “if you learn well and fast you may have a chance. all I can do is teach you as much as I can how to use the dagger well.” Ivor moved his hands in a practiced motion.
—
“Set your feet,” Ivor said, and Marcus got into his familiar boxing stance. You cannot fight a Veystrix unarmed unless you have a death wish.”
“I have fought Levin and he is not that strong.”
“Boy, Levin was not trying to kill. if he was, you wouldn’t have seen him coming.” he said with cold eyes and pursed lips.
Marcus frowned first at being called a boy and then at the fact that Levin was not taking him seriously.
“Your fist are a good weapon but think of the Dagger… it adds reach and it can bleed a man without effort,” Ivor's hand shot forward in a heavy strike as he demonstrated. “think of it as an extension when you reach out to strike.”
He twitched at the dead cold instructions of the old man, he was not new to the sight of blood but killing someone was something else, it raised the stakes.
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He watched Marcus go through the motions he had demonstrated. “Whoever taught you how to fight did a good job with your footwork,” he circled around Marcus. Use it, but instead of punching, aim for the killing strike,” he said, stopping about a meter away before gesturing and urging Marcus to strike at him.
Taking the invitation for what it was, Marcus moved his hand fast and hard, shifting his body forward and aiming to stab in Ivor’s general direction. The man was large, and surely he could not miss. His hand moved forward, but he never reached. He wasn’t fast enough.
Ivor reached out and grabbed the stick that was Marcus’s dagger and jerked his hand to the side.
“A dagger is not just for stabbing,” he grabbed where the blade could have been had it been real, moving the stick along with Marcus’s arm, pulling it and pushing it back, testing Marcus’s grip. He frowned. “Hold it tight, but not stiffly. “You need control, not brute strength.” he let go of the stick and their spurring match continued with him stopping occasionally to point out mistakes that could cost Marcus his life.
This kept on going for hours and Ivor began to doubt the assumptions he had previously made about the boy-- Marcus. why was he here? how did he end up here? What happened?
And the way he acted, was he a soldier, or was he just the silent type? Such a character made for the deadliest of men.
The boy didn’t argue, not as much as someone his age should have. Of course, this was something common with fighters wanting to learn and improve themselves. Something his new disciple showed in his discipline in mastering that odd fighting style at such a young age.
But he was a child.
Sure, living as a beggar in Srok, where children had to grow up fast, could do that to a child. but he had a measured temperament beyond his years, which brought up some other suspicions.
Suspicions of child assassins.
Was he one of those, a project of one of the great houses to produce a child assassin that would be loyal and someone they could send on tasks which could leave both assassin and the target dead. Ivor shook his head making sure to forget such thoughts and focusing on the present.
“That’s enough for one day, let’s go inside,” he said, picking up his grimoire and heading into the cabin.
“Another lesson warriors must learn is that Before you do anything you must know which spells you need,” He said, Looking at his Grimoire. “Choose the wrong spell against the wrong opponent and you will most likely loose.”
The grimoire was a sign of right, a symbol that its wielder was allowed to do magic, and before a fight, a warrior needed to know his opponent’s strength to counter them, and he would be sure his opponents did the same. and in most cases, a grimoire was seen as a sign Across the mountain ranges of Tealaris that one was or had been in the service of the High houses. Like many of the half-bloods with goliath, blood he had asked to be a servant under the Noble house of Zakon as a Duskguard, and after years of service, it had still taken him half a decade to get his own grimoire from the scholars of House De Colarad.
Ivor’s grimoire was like that of any knight goliath-- it was Bound in the thick, silver-brown, grey pelt of the dire wolves that could be found crossing the forgotten forest. Like all grimoires, its pages were all Katch paper that held spells on their surfaces.
The Dire wolf was a common beast, it’s magic lesser. This meant that he could only keep so many spells beyond a single third tier before the fur and skin could no longer hold aether, letting the magic flow back into the ley-lines. Another way that the great houses and the church of River and Sun held control over those beneath them.
It was either that or risk having your spells abandoned your soul and mind because, as everyone knew, magic could never be controlled, only guided and without regular use of the spell. It could be forgotten when one went to sleep and when they rose the next morning.
“Unlike other [mage sight] spells that show the amount of aether presence an opponent has, your [arcane sight] shows each of their affinity weights separately. use that before you open the grimoire. that way you can counter their magics,” the old man said, pushing the grimoire forward and watching as Marcus looked between him and the book and hesitantly moved to open the leather bound cover of the book.
But before he could even open it fully. the old man’s hand stretched out and held it shut.
“So tell me, boy,” the old man began and watched as Marcus twitched at the word. “One secret begets another. Does it not?”
Marcus looked him in the eye judging and measuring trying not to jump to conclusions, “What do you want? I have no secret,” he said, ’at least any that you would believe.’
“Of course you do. everyone has their secrets.” Ivor said, his golden eyes judging the boy.
‘What was he talking about?’ did he know that Marcus was not from this world, or was it something else?
Ivor noticed the signs of hesitation on Marcus’s face, his breathing beginning to become rapid. ‘So, it’s true. I thought the boy was trying to get in my good graces but he was right,’ he sighed .” Here is what I will do I will trade a spell for information.” Ivor acquiesced.
“What information?” Marcus asked, brows farrowing.
“Your affinity. you don’t have to tell me the shadow and arcane affinity I can already guess that they are higher affinities.” ‘Levin is no coward but if even that boy is scared of this one spell it has to be connected to a higher shadow affinity.’ the old man thought. “tell me of another of your affinities.” he asked.
Marcus thought about it, could he tell him about his psychic affinity of seven. but Marcus did not know what the old man would do. thinking of it now Ivor had tried to take him away from Clara and the others,he had tried talking him out of helping the group and if he knew his secrets, would Ivor wish to control him.
It was along moment of silence in the dim cabin and Marcus made his decision.
“I have an affinity weight of five in bloodline magic.” Marcus said and did not tell the truth.
Ivor’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose, “And do you have innate magic for that.”
“No,” he said hesitatingly.
“Fair enough,” Ivor lifted his hand off the grimoire but he didn’t seem to believe him. no. he believe that the boy’s other affinity light, dark or psychic was the one with a magical weight of five or even higher.
No... he did not question the boy anymore. He knew how to find out if the boy could actually acquire a bloodline innate magic. “After this farce with Thornan if you survive we will get you a bloodline innate magic.”
Marcus pulled the leather-bound book over to his side of the table and Opened it.
“Always be careful of the spell you choose, your enemies will always be capable of different spells-- learn as much as you can.” Ivor warned.
As Ivor spoke, Marcus’s eyes moved through the pages, each spell covering ten or more pages describing how the spell can be changed and adjusted.
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Direwolf Duskguard Grimoire.
Warrior’s Resilience.
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell reduces muscle strain and allows the caster to fight longer without soreness.
Eagle’s Focus.
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell allows the user to track a single enemy’s movement with extreme precision.
Wolf Ears.
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell enhances hearing sensitivity to detect near distant sounds.
Iron Bones.
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell makes the user's bones denser and more resistant to breaking.
Unbreakable Skin.
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell briefly hardens the skin against slashes and blunt force.
Fireball.
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with an Elemental affinity. This spell conjures and hurls a sphere of fire.
Variations -- Fireball Dart. Conjures a smaller, high-speed version.
Minor Ward.
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Light affinity. This spell forms a radiant energy barrier that seals doors, chests, or pathways, alerting the user if there is any tampering.
Duskguard’s Domain.
This spell is a Tier III spell. It can only be used by those with a Light and Bloodline affinity. This spell Greatly Enhances all senses when standing still.
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