Everyone was gone when Raith opened his eyes again. Light streamed around the edges of the heavy curtains, but aside from 'day’, he had no idea of the time. His muscles were still sore and weak, but one thing had changed dramatically.

  He was starving.

  Trying to get up was not much more successful than it had been the first time. He managed to get himself into a sitting position.

  “Hello?”

  A young elven woman who he didn’t recognize poked her head into the room and met his eyes. She blushed, then quickly withdrew her head. A few moments later, she returned, trailing behind Abbot Tukes.

  “Ah, it is good to see you sitting up.” He turned to the young woman behind him. “Thank you, Sabina. You may go now.”

  She gave a small bow and rushed out of the room. Tukes watched her go with a fond smile.

  “My apprentice. Perhaps the last one I take before moving on to the hueless realm. She is quite gifted, and played no small role in your recovery I might add.”

  “Please tell her I said thank you. She doesn’t seem to want to talk to me.”

  The old man chuckled.

  “Don’t take it personally. She has been mute since birth. Your brother seems to have quite the talent for herbal craft, as well. Would that I had known this a decade ago when your lovely mother first brought him here. He is bright, driven, and will go far even without the help from this tired old man.”

  Raith somehow doubted that this vibrant man was all that close to kicking off, but declined to comment.

  The Abbot removed a vial of some dark liquid from his belt and handed it to Raith.

  “Drink this.”

  He uncorked the potion and knocked it back without hesitation. It was good he didn’t stop to smell it first because he might have reconsidered. It was disgusting, and the only reason he didn’t spit it out is that he’d drank it so fast.

  “Weaver’s tits, what was that? Skunk urine?”

  Tukes smiled mischievously, knowing perfectly well how it had tasted.

  “It is for stamina and muscle recovery. Proper rest and five more of those, and you’ll be back on your feet by midday tomorrow.”

  “Five more?!”

  The Abbot held up a hand and looked away.

  “I don’t want to hear it. While you continue to be under my care, you will do as I say. Tomorrow you only have to take four. Then three the following day and so on. At week’s end, you will be good as new.”

  Raith burped, then tried not to retch as the flavor came back up. Maybe some food would help dilute it.

  “Can I eat?”

  Tukes nodded.

  “Yes, but only lightly at first. You haven’t had solid food in over two weeks, and we can’t have you vomiting up my potions. I will send someone.”

  A short while later, his grandfather entered with a bowl of vegetables and noodles. Raith would have preferred at least three times more food, but found that he was stuffed after immediately scarfing down half. Brennan patiently sat while he ate. After he was full, Raith sat the bowl to the side and took a long drink of water.

  “Thank you, grandpa.”

  It was good to see him again. The year he had spent at the monastery had been one of his fondest memories, and he had always planned on returning someday. Although preferably not under these circumstances.

  “It is a pleasure to see you with an appetite. Aside from the business with this illness, how have you been, grandson?”

  They spent the next few hours catching up, interrupted only by Sabina bringing him another vial of that foul potion to choke down. It was good to have family.

  “Is Master Wren around?”

  Wren was the rope dart expert who had been his primary instructor. Raith was hoping to learn a few new techniques and perhaps [Skills] before they left.

  Brennan shook his head.

  “He has gone on a pilgrimage to Bantu Temple in the corvid lands. Your friend Noni is here, though. I am certain should would love to show you all she has learned.”

  His grandfather allowed the barest hint of a smile to slip. Noni arrived to learn the rope dart at around the same time he had. She hated his guts. Not in a ‘I secretly have a crush and express it like an eight year old’ way. She was hyper driven and competitive, and Raith had not only been a faster learner than her during that year, but he hadn’t been even remotely gracious about it.

  Never thought I’d be happy to be stuck in bed.

  Everyone came and went for a few days while Raith regained his strength and did his best to knock back the vile vials without vomiting. Somehow it got harder instead of easier each time.

  Nyhm was glued to Abbot Tukes when he wasn’t visiting Raith, and Thea had evidently discovered a group of training partners who found her shield style unique and challenging. It was Tolliver, of all people, who spent the most time hanging out by Raith’s side.

  There wasn’t a whole lot for the [Mage] to do in the remote monastery. He did take advantage of training with some of the monks, but not nearly to the extent of the others. ??It turned out that the two of them had read many of the same story books growing up and had a marvelous time recounting tales of their favorite heroes. They even got into silly, good-natured arguments over which hero of legend would win in a fight, with Tolliver always taking the side of the [Mages], while Raith preferred the clever [Warrior] types.

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  “I had no idea this is where you learned the style of combat you used in skirmishers.”

  “I’m not surprised you haven't heard of it. Few people even know the temple is here. It’s where my mother was born.”

  “How marvelous. My own mother is from Seyr, all the way south in the Kingdom of Yadel. Entirely political marriage, you know. The integrity of the Three Kingdoms and all that.”

  The [Mage]'s eyes grew unfocused as he looked off into a memory.

  “We used to winter on the beach in Seyr. She was always so happy on the beach. I tried to get father to bury her there, but he couldn’t be bothered to make the trip.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know your mother had passed.”

  Tolliver frowned and gave a small shake of his head.

  “As am I. Forgive me for leaving on such a sad note, but believe I shall leave you to your rest.”

  “Thanks for visiting again.”

  It was getting late and very unlikely anyone else you be dropping by. Except Sabina with Tukes’ tortuous potion. Raith took a nap in [Staccato], and thought about his new [Skills] and levels. He knew what he wanted with [Scholar] classes. It was all right there in the Exalted Patterns tome, but he wanted to hold off on the other two.

  With [Warrior], he had originally planned on just going with the very basic wielder -> adept -> expert -> master route. But now that he was at the monastery, it seemed like a good idea to see what other options might be available in their library. The last time he was here, it had not been with an eye towards the future development of his class, and he’d only done the most basic reading on the topic.

  Of course, now it looked like Noni was the local expert, and he was dreading that conversation.

  [Rogue] was going to be even more complicated. He knew there were scout variants for the class, but he didn’t have any of them in his library. Worse, he wasn’t sure if [Thief Acrobat] would weave into one. It was likely that the two paths weren’t too far apart, especially this early in their development, but definitely not a sure thing.

  He went back and forth comparing the [Thief Acrobat] paths to the [Ranger] ones he had available in the library. It seemed like it would probably be fine, but he didn’t have the technical knowledge to figure it out. When they got to Old Valen, someone at the Adventurer’s Guild could point him in the right direction, but he didn’t really want to wait that long to braid up.

  That meant paying Abbot Rinner a visit. The crazy old [Pattern Sage] lived up the mountain in a cave by himself, and Brennan had always warned him to stay away from the man. It was might have been because he didn’t want to risk exposing the [Divine Skill], but Raith had always attributed a more general leeriness to the warning.

  He spent the rest of the recovery between building up an appetite, drinking gross potions, and moving around a little more each day. Being stuck in bed was so boring he slept outside of [Staccato] just to pass the time.

  The only time he used the [Skill] was for long study sessions. The extent to which [Greater Mental Endurance] allowed him to focus was nothing short of miraculous. It wasn’t exactly what he would call fun reading about the various types of locks and traps one might find, but he knew the knowledge was invaluable for an adventuring team and dug into the books.

  As with most things, though, reading wasn’t the same as doing. Eventually, he’d have to find a way to actually practice this stuff in order to get truly proficient. It was much like the tracking had been. A lot of what the books had to say didn’t make nearly as much sense until he was out there in the wilds with Silas helping put it into context.

  Abbot Tukes declared him well at the end of the week as promised, and Raith decided the first order of business was to talk to Rinner. Definitely not because he was putting off having to ask Noni for advice. He checked with his grandfather to make sure the elf still lived there.

  “He does. If you’re going, don’t forget to bring a gift. He likes wine, if you have any.”

  Brennan gave him an odd smile as he left, but Raith didn’t give it too much thought as he went to tell his team where he was off to.

  Nyhm was busy studying under Tukes while he had the chance, and Tolliver was working with one of the monks on some sort of fighting style where he would change back and forth from a bat to a human. It actually looked pretty useful, and he was glad to see the team making the most of their time.

  Thea declared she was coming with.

  “I planned on having the Rootmother guide me on my [Druid] class. The books and notes we took from her home don’t have much in the way of pattern lore.”

  “Do you still have that wine from the gnome’s pack?”

  “Haven’t touched it.”

  “Perfect. Grab one of the bottles, we’ll need it as a gift.”

  So the two gathered what provisions they needed for a day trek up the mountain and set off. There were no specific rumors of monsters in the area, but it was always a good idea to be careful. Anything with half a brain steered well clear of the dangerous monks, but there were plenty of dangerous things out there that were just plain stupid.

  An hour or so after setting out, they rounded the curve of a narrow rocky path to encounter just such a creature. Sparks leapt up and down the length of its large, curling horns. A Stormwright Goat. The size of a normal mountain goat, this breed had steel horns that collected lightning from the alpine storms. They could store the energy and release it in a devastating headbutt.

  This one stood right in the center of the path, facing away from them, munching on a clump of grass. It looked over its shoulder at them and stared with one creepy eye for a long moment. They froze, and the thing returned to eating grass with an ear twitching in their direction.

  Raith looked around, and there were at least five more of the things above and below them, perched impossibly on the cliff face. They could probably win in a fight against the things, but if something went wrong and Thea got knocked off this cliff, she was dead. Definitely better to avoid a confrontation if possible.

  “Can you talk to them?” he whispered.

  Thea’s eye twitched and she tilted her head to the side.

  “Did you just ask me if I can talk to the goat because I’m a satyr?”

  Raith blanched.

  “What? No! I didn’t mean it like that. I asked because you’re a [Druid].”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Oh, come on. Fine, do you have any suggestions?”

  “Have you got that pepper powder still?”

  “Yeah, a bunch. I haven’t used many of those.”

  “It’ll probably irritate these guys enough to make them move on, without pissing them off enough to attack.”

  It was worth a try, and he could always get more in Old Valen. He started with the one in front of them. The pouch burst next to its head in a cloud of red powder. The goat took a face full of the stuff and hopped backwards, shaking its head and sneezing. It cautiously sniffed at the now contaminated grass and sneezed again. Evidently deciding this made the snack even more appetizing, it returned to its meal with renewed enthusiasm. The other goats became curious and began to come over to investigate.

  Thinking quickly, Raith threw another pouch at a tenacious shrub that sprung from the rock slightly above them and a little further away. It worked exactly as planned, distracting the dangerous creatures as they redirected to claim their delicious prize.

  Almost exactly as planned.

  A gust of wind blew a healthy amount right back in their faces. Raith was somewhat prepared, having experienced this particular unpleasantness once already. He ducked his head and avoided getting any in his eyes, although he breathed enough in to start snotting coughing. But Thea was taken wholly by surprise.

  “Threaded fuck that burns.”

  He had to grab her to stop her from stumbling near the edge of the cliff.

  “Put your back on the wall until you can see again.”

  She cursed some more and did as he suggested while he got out a canteen.

  “Cup your hands for some water and splash it on your face.”

  They got her cleaned up enough to finish the hike, but she was miserable and complained about his stupid powder almost the entire time. Still red around the eyes and running at the nose, the companions finally arrived at Abbot Rinner’s cave.

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