Atlas gulped at the look and carefully reminded himself this man was much stronger than him. With a sigh of resignation and knowing the man was right, he relaxed his stance and faced the druid.
“My apologies, Master Longstride. I know it isn’t your fault. I’m just frustrated with the turn of events. Would you be willing to tell me how I can set a bind point?”
Longstride’s eyes bore into Atlas for a few moments before an enormous grin split his face, “That’s more like it. Setting a bind point is simple. Go to the inn and talk to the innkeeper. Just tell them you want to set your bind point there and they will be happy to help. That is the best option until you find a Spawn Beacon.”
Atlas’ eyebrows rose, “What’s a Spawn Beacon?”
“You’re bound to see one as you get higher level, but they are portable spawning locations tied directly to you. They are pretty costly, and only specific artisans can even make them. They can be invaluable to guilds though, since they allow you to set your spawn location anywhere, including a secret base,” Longstride said with a wink.
That sounds fantastic. I’ll definitely need to invest in one of those in the future. I imagine I’m in for a shock when I see the sticker price on one of those bad boys.
“Can you elaborate on the combat system here? I’ve discovered my physical addition and figured out how to cast Nature’s Fury. I’ve also discovered the very unfortunate side effect of failing a spell mid-cast. How does the counter system work and what are the combat rules?” Atlas asked.
“Well, I can’t answer all of that. I can only discuss your class specific elements. You’re rewarded for following the movements. What you may not know yet, is that you can increase the levels of spells as you gain levels. When they increase in level, they sometimes change the pattern for their casting sequence. Often, this decreases their cast time. If you are supremely lucky, and become one with the spell and cast it with perfect movement mirroring, it unlocks auto casting for the ability. This allows you to trigger the cast without worry for the movements or failure.”
“That sounds great. Do you know how to do it or is it just luck?” Atlas asked, intrigued.
“Only rumors,” Longstride said with a wave, “just the normal ‘inner peace’ and ‘be one with yourself’ that is always tossed around for solutions.”
“So, how do I learn more about the hand-to-hand and weapon combat?”
“The Weaponmaster in the village can teach you those things. He is in the large practice yard on your right as you head back down the road. Get him to teach you those skills.”
“Thank you for the help. I need to go talk to the Weaponmaster so I can get back to my gear.”
“Ah, the ever so fun gravestone run of the Reborn. Good luck, Atlas,” Longstride called as Atlas turned and exited the building.
He walked down the path toward the main section of the village and spotted the large practice yard. Three men stood in a loose formation while two others sparred nearby. Atlas approached the group of two fighting and observed the action.
Unlike when he fought, he couldn’t see the triggers or movements either men had to follow. The ghostly images were absent and none of the warning flashes were present. He noticed the combatants occasionally froze during their fighting, and Atlas assumed they finished the attack or missed the motions as he had.
When the two finished their fight, both stood straight and then performed a bow. When they rose, they walked back toward the group of three nearby. The older gentleman with gray-streaked hair addressed them.
“And that is why your counterattacks are so important. An advanced fighter can string together far more abilities than a newer one. If you can’t interrupt them, they could kill you before you even have a turn to strike at them. Just make sure you practice. Always remember, if you miss a counter then they get another free attack on you after their current finishes. It essentially bounces your next initiative.”
The group all nodded and the older man called out, “Dismissed.” The area cleared out quickly as each went on their way until only the older man remained.
“Hello, Sir. My name is Atlas. Are you the Weaponmaster here?”
The man turned to look at Atlas. A scar stretched from the base of his eye to the bottom of his jaw on the left side.
“Another Reborn. What can I do for you, Atlas?”
“Another? I’ve seen no others yet,” he said confused as he searched his surroundings.
“You won’t, so don’t bother searching. None of your kind can see each other in this area. There is a magic spell that cloaks this entire place. When you move to the next destination, you’ll see your people.”
Makes sense. Bet it’s to keep out griefers from camping new players.
“How did you know I was a Reborn?”
“Only a Reborn would be in the middle of the forest without so much as a knife to his name,” the man said as he nodded his head toward Atlas’ empty waistband.
“Had an unfortunate incident with a squirrel,” Atlas told him sheepishly.
“A squirrel? You let a squirrel kill you?” the man asked before belting out a hearty laugh.
“It had a name,” Atlas grumbled.
“You found a named squirrel? Not too many of those in the forest. Surely you weren’t stupid enough to confront Reil?” the Weaponmaster asked with a raised eyebrow.
Atlas stared at the ground and kicked at a clump of dirt. He didn’t want to answer that question and make things even worse.
“Not only did you stumble into one of the few sanctuaries in the area, but you defiled it and got killed by the guardian. You must have some horrible luck or are incredibly foolish.”
“How about we just chalk it up to foolishness,”
