A knee to the solar plexus drove every last bit of air from Raith’s lungs. He tried to activate [Acrobatic Evasion] to avoid the next blow, but it hadn’t yet finished the cooldown. A leg sweep took his feet out from beneath him, and he smashed into the ground where he laid gasping for breath. He’d asked his brother to help try out the new [Skill], but it had turned into a full on training session.

  Closing his eyes for a moment in pain, he opened them to find his brother standing over his prone form.

  “You have improved.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously and he did not offer the hand up Raith had been expecting. “Not just from [Skill] upgrades. Your techniques are better, yet we’ve had no time to train.”

  Raith struggled into a sitting position when he found he could breathe normally again.

  “I can practice some stuff in my [Mnemonic Library], but it’s extremely limited. Mostly kicks and footwork. No weapon, no sparring partner.” He rubbed at his stomach where the knee had struck. “I really need to improve at close-in fighting. When you get inside my weapon range like that I’m defenseless.”

  Nyhm shook his head firmly.

  “No you’re not. Use those kicks you’ve been drilling. You have knees and elbows. Your rope can be used to entangle limbs, and wield the dart like a dagger.” He backed up and gestured for Raith to get up. “Again.”

  Another grueling two hours later, and too many bruises to count, Raith finally felt like he was making progress. It was good to see [Enhanced Endurance] let him train longer and harder than he used to.

  Nyhm slipped in close to throw a jab at his head, and Raith dodged while wrapping the outstretched arm with the rope and turning the punch’s momentum into a perfect throw.

  While he stood there patting himself on the back, Nyhm sprung instantly back to his feet and executed a spinning heel kick that caught Raith right in the temple. He must have lost consciousness for a minute, because he woke up on his back with his brother worriedly pouring a healing potion into his mouth. Raith stopped him before he wasted any more of the precious liquid.

  “That’s good. I’m fine.” He sat up, waving the elfling off and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Weaver’s tits, that hurt. You’re being way harder on me than usual. What’s up?”

  Nyhm looked to the ground guiltily and took his time before answering.

  “Back home, teaching you to survive in a fight didn’t seem so urgent. The worst that might happen is someone would best you on the skirmisher pitch.” He looked up, eyes more full of emotion then Raith had ever seen from his stoic brother. “After battling those insects I fear I’ve failed you. I couldn’t get close enough to protect you, and my laziness with training could have gotten you hurt. I’m sorry, brother.”

  “What are you talking about? You’ve helped me train more than anyone. And those things were slow, I was never in any real danger. I could have [Squirrel Run] out of there any time I wanted.”

  “But Thea couldn’t, and you would never leave her behind.” He dropped his head again and frowned before looking back up. “Leah wouldn’t put up with me looking out for her, and Derry is happy to stay in dad’s shadow. But you were the wild one, always off on your own crazy schemes. Even mom said it’s my job to protect you. It’s literally the only thing I am good for.”

  Raith shook his head vehemently.

  “Bullshit. Mom would never say something like that. What were the exact words she used?”

  “She said I did a good job looking out for my little brother and she was proud of me.”

  Nyhm waved a hand towards his brother as if to say ‘see’. Raith tilted his head forwards and arched his eyebrows. Nyhm got the message loud and clear, but Raith said it anyways.

  “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that.”

  It felt good to be able to say that to someone else for a change. Now he just needed to find the right situation to say it to Thea and he could die happy.

  “How about this. We go harder with my training, but when the real fighting starts you need to worry more about how to support the team than look after me or this isn’t going to work. Deal?”

  Nyhm gave a curt nod.

  “Deal.”

  They gave a quick hug and clap on the back, then stood awkwardly for a moment before nearly jumping out of their skins at a bellow from the woods.

  “KILL THAT CUNT! MURDER IT!!!”

  The brothers whirled towards the treeline, preparing for the worst. Standing right at the edge of the field was a furry brown creature the size of a small dog. It took Raith a moment to realize he was staring at a groundhog. A rather fat one, at that.

  It sat up on its haunches, casually staring back into the woods at the charging boar with its crazed dwarven rider. The creature glanced their way, seeming to notice them for the first time. There was a twitch and then it was just…gone.

  Raith looked at his brother with furrowed brows.

  “Did that groundhog just teleport?”

  Nyhm nodded slowly and opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and pointed.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “It’s over there.”

  Following the direction of the finger he saw it about a hundred feet away in the middle of the garden. The chubby creature was sitting up and looking their way while nibbling on a stolen carrot.

  “Is that the same one?”

  “I’m not sure. I think so.”

  To remove any doubt, Farmer cleared the treeline and charged straight towards it, roaring all the while.

  “That’s the last carrot you’ll have from me, you thieving, stubby-legged dirt goblin!”

  The dwarf pulled a hand axe off of a brace strapped to the side of his mount and hurled the weapon with astonishing speed. End over end it spun with deadly accuracy. Raith’s eyes could barely track its progress through the air, but when it arrived the groundhog had simply vanished.

  Farmer located it before they did, veering his surprisingly agile mount on a new course. Another axe whirled towards the target, and this time Raith used [Staccato]. The weapon froze about two thirds of the way to the furry brown foe, but the creature had already moved. He was shocked to discover that it had not teleported.

  It was running.

  Somehow that fat little thing was moving with such speed that they couldn’t see it. The moment he released his [Skill] it disappeared again, this time not stopping anywhere within their line of sight.

  “Bah! I almost had him that time.” Farmer trotted Bernhold over to the brothers, scowling down at them in disdain. “Yer a pair of useless cunts if I’ve ever see one.” He passed them up and dismounted in front of his house. “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  He and Bernhold both went inside, the door slamming behind them with enough force to shake dust loose from the roof. Raith looked over to see the others had poured out of the barn with weapons drawn, expressions a mix of panic and confusion.

  “What the threaded fuck was that all about?” Thea finally managed.

  Raith shook his head helplessly.

  “I…I’m not actually sure.”

  ***

  It turned out that what the dwarf considered dinner was a loaf of warm bread served along side perfectly cooked and seasoned vegetables, and a meat that no one was sure they wanted to have identified but tasted wonderful. Raith didn’t have the foggiest idea what Farmer was using for seasoning way out here, but there was no denying it was delicious.

  Those guys might be on to something about good food.

  A large stone slab out behind the house served as a table for the group, with boards laid across smaller stones to serve as makeshift benches. It wasn’t perfect but Raith was just happy they hadn’t all needed to squeeze into the house and find out how those two lived in there.

  There had been some scrambling to avoid sitting next to Farmer, but their host made sure Tolliver got a seat at his side. The dwarf had taken a liking to the poor man, and kept emphasizing the fact with much too-hard back pats.

  “I don’t understand,” Raith said. “How does a normal animal get a [Divine Skill]?”

  Thea finished chewing the bread she was savoring and fielded the question.

  “’Randy gods’ isn’t just a figure of speech. Those bastards screwed just about anything they could chase down while they reigned over Tela. So every now and then you’ll see something like our host’s eternal foe here, although most were hunted down and killed centuries ago.”

  “Dirt flinging menace, he is!”

  Food sprayed out of Farmer’s mouth with the proclamation, a fair amount getting onto Tollvier’s robes. The [Mage] closed his eyes and visibly tried to gain control of his emotions. Raith made sure that Tolliver saw his smirk before turning back to Thea.

  “So why don’t animals have [Classes] then?”

  She shrugged.

  “Technically they can, I suppose. Anything with the smarts to weave a pattern can get a [Class]. Animals just don’t have the intelligence to do it. It’s why you’ll see creatures like ogres and trolls with only really simple [Classes] and [Skills]. [Brute] with [Enhanced Strength] and the like. They’re not intelligent enough to weave anything more complicated.”

  That actually made a lot of sense. Raith looked at his patterns for [Rare Tome Procurement Specialist] and [Mnemonic Library] and considered the sheer artisanship and intellectual might that must have gone in to designing such incredibly complex patterns so long ago. It had almost been too much for him to manage with the instructions right there for reference.

  “Ye’ve got a bit of a dwarvish accent, lassie. From where do ye hail?”

  Thea gave Farmer a nod of confirmation.

  “Beckhaven like the rest. But my mother was raised in Kingsforge.”

  “Ah, I knew me ears heard true. And a fine citadel it is.”

  Farmer reached across the table and refilled Silas’s cup from the dwarf’s prize possession, the Mug of Endless Mead. The golden liquid sloshed onto the table with his careless pour, then spilled more onto Tolliver as he settled back into his seat. It seemed the drunker Farmer got the messier he became, impossible as it was to believe he could be any more filthy than he’d been sober.

  “Sorry friend, did you need more mead, too?”

  Farmer went to refill Tolliver’s cup, but the [Mage] jerked it out of the way. This resulted in a generous serving of mead being dumped straight onto the man’s lap. His face flushed red and he slammed down his cup before jumping to his feet.

  “That. Is. Enough.”

  He briskly made a complicated gesture with hands, and Sonic Cleanse shook off all of the filth Farmer had deposited on his robes. After taking a moment to inspect that his clothing was satisfactorily cleaned, Tollvier turned to Farmer and narrowed his eyes.

  “And now for you.”

  Farmer’s bloodshot eyes flew wide, and Raith was shocked to see actual fear on the man’s face. The dwarf shook his head and leaned away as far as he could get from the enraged [Sonorous Adept].

  “Ye wouldn’t. Ye can’t!”

  An evil smile crept across Tolliver’s face.

  “Oh, but I can.”

  Farmer leapt to his feet and moved to flee, but the spell came of too quickly for an escape. Following a few deft gestures, the Weaver’s only know how many years of grime, dirt and pudtridity vibrated off the dwarf and fell into a pile of muck at his feet. Farmer looked at his arms in horror, shaking his head in denial.

  “No. It cannot be.” He looked to Tolliver with desperation in his eyes. “Put it back.”

  He rushed over and grabbed the [Mage] by the front of his robes with two massive hands.

  “Ye took it off, ye can put it all back on.”

  Raith wasn’t sure if it was fear or sympathy or both, but the sneering smile disappeared from Tolliver’s face and was replaced with wide eyed uncertainty. He put up his palms and shook his head.

  “Truly I cannot. The spell doesn’t work that way.”

  Farmer’s face went slack and his grip on Tolliver’s robes loosened. He stumbled backwards a step and looked around as if lost.

  “I made a solemn vow. Never again would I bathe after that wretched harridan betrayed me.”

  His face screwed up in rage, and his eyes narrowed into burning focus on the [Mage]. Farmer’s voice came out in a low growl.

  “You.”

  Without a word, Tolliver vanished in a [Poof] of smoke and a bat darted off into the night, disappearing nearly as fast as that groundhog had. Everyone around the table held their breath as the dwarf’s gaze slowly turned to them while he spurted heavy snorts of anger.

  Thea cleared her throat, stood up, and nonchalantly leaned over the table. Grabbing the Mug of Endless Mead, she used it to refill her empty cup, took a deep swill, then refilled it again. Still standing, she held the dwarf’s enchanted mug out towards him.

  “Why don’t we share a drink and you can tell me all about this bitch who broke your heart.”

  They watched with apprehension until the anger slowly melted from Farmer’s face. He gave Thea a nod and accepted the mug from her hand before slumping back down into his seat at the table. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were bright with tears.

  “Each time I saw her smile, forever felt like too short a time to love her enough.”

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