Chapter Seventy-Three – We Now have a Paladin

"Use three of them," Briggs said calmly, taking Sama's cue. "Rep counts. You need to use those as often as possible to get your rep counts up."

"Rep… counts?" he repeated, even as he crossed his hands again.

"What, they don't teach basic Spellcraft to Paladins, now?" Briggs huffed.

"I… forgive me, but it is passing strange to hear a, ah…"

"Ancient," Sama snapped from behind him.

"Ancient," he agreed in relief, "lecturing on Spellcraft."

"It is passing strange to hear total ignorance on basic magic from a Powered Human, so I guess we're even," Briggs replied without batting an eye, and the young noble's face fell. "Don't tell me that they filled your head with that 'Mithar Provides' stuff, and you just smote pelts and fenced most of the time?"

"Ah…" he managed, and didn't say anything. Briggs looked at Sama, who just snorted, and the young man blushed despite himself.

"Wow, he has a LOT to learn. It's a good thing Paladin is not a Primary Class. We're gonna have to put you to studying, Sir Estemar of the Knights of the Ruby Heart."

"I am a mere squire, I have no honorific!" he started to protest.

"Do you really want us to be addressing you as Your Royal Highness?" Briggs asked, arching an eyebrow. He noticed Sama giving him a glance, and smiled to himself. Someone didn't put Ranks in Knowledge/Local, he mused to himself. Or, more likely, she never had the opportunity to…

Estemar immediately stiffened. "I, you…" Having a Neandrathal find him out was definitely surprising the heck out of the lad, Briggs mused.

"You're wearing a Ruby Heart ring given only to senior knights, and it's been enspelled with anti-divination protections. Your armor is QL 30 high-carbon steel at +Zvei, the maker's mark is Jotungard's Royal Guild, with the crown attachment reserved for the Royal Family, and you're wearing a personal identification Amulet under your tunic. I won't comment on your accent, you're definitely trying to work on it, but you can't hide your mannerisms.

"Now, I don't know which one of the Ogredown Princes you are, as I've been told there's like two dozen of you, but if they sent you off into a knightly order at your age, it wasn't because you were magnificently talented at being a cavalier… especially with a Scryward on you.

"I'm going to assume that your siblings and/or their supporters might be making things difficult for you, and you were packed off to somewhere you might be able to grow and make something of yourself without taking a shiv in the aorta. Add in some martial training since young, and the hopelessly optimistic viewpoint necessary to become a Paladin, and knightly orders was definitely a road for you." His bushy eyebrows waggled magnificently on his browline. "How am I doing, Sir Estemar?"

The young noble winced. "You are doing magnificently, sir. I shall not underestimate you in the future!"

Briggs clapped his shoulder, and the boy staggered, feeling again the inhuman strength there. "Well that you do not. Now, let's get you back into your armor. Oh, Sama, I assume he had a good tussle yesterday, what should he Level up?"

Estemar blinked, and only then saw his armor underneath the saddlebags, as Sama lifted the latter off the former.

"Soulshaper. Mastery to Extra Smite. Soul Feat to Wrathful Soul. Shape to Shock Gauntlets. He should pray for Assay and then all the healing magic he can."

The young noble looked totally perplexed at the words coming out of her mouth, and looked to Briggs for an explanation.

"You can cast spells?" Briggs asked, somewhat amused.

"I have been blessed by Mithar, and He will grant some very minor Prayers of mine," he replied, somewhat stiffly.

"So, yes. Probably only two, three a day at this point." Estemar blinked, and nodded slowly. "Okay, here's what you need to do." He had the boy's curious but rather disbelieving gaze.

"Mithar is the God of Paladins, but he's also the God of Skill. He is totally and fully capable of granting you all the knowledge and power He wants to, being He's a Divinity and all, yes?" Estemar nodded, and started to open his mouth while Briggs went on blithley. "So, Him teaching you the basics of a Class is exactly the same thing as Him granting you the powers of a Paladin, is it not?"

Estemar blinked, as if the idea had never occurred to him before this moment. "I… suppose it is?" he admitted warily.

"Outstanding! Now, what we would like you to do is go over there and pray." The young Paladin blinked. "You will pray to Mithar as normal, and you will prepare your Prayers as appropriate in meditation and recitation. The ones you want are Assay and Lesser Fast Healing. If you don't know those Prayers, then you directly request inspiration of Mithar to learn them, and He will politely acknowledge His younger mortal brother's circumstances and teach you." Estemar blinked at what was an astounding show of faith from an Ancient, who were reportedly mostly godless.

"Then, you will politely request that He show you the way to be a Soulshaper. This is no more or less difficult then Him showing you the Path to being a Paladin, and given that you have been in battle and fought in His name and your mutual goals, He will grant you this boon for the good deeds you have done.

"You will also request of him inspiration in the art of Smiting Mastery, how to stir within yourself a Wrathful Soul, and how to shape Shock Gauntlets. You need not worry if you do not know what these are, because Mithar most certainly does, and I imagine He is going to be ecstatic that you are making such an unusual and wise request at your age."

The noble prince was just blinking at him in shock. "I… how do you know all this?" he protested.

Briggs looked affronted. "Ancient Wisdom," he said, totally serious. "Go. Pray. We'll wait."

The young man, both impressed and confused, repeated the words to himself as he sat down at the base of the tree he had climbed the night before, and closed his eyes.

---

Briggs and Sama moved off, but only a little ways. Tremble's Sound Bubble would suffice for quiet, as she quietly moved above the young noble and sealed him off from the world.

"Mister Inquisitor Briggs!" Sama said with a grin. "Lookit you go!"

"One of us had to learn something about this world," he sniffed loftily, and she just laughed. "Seriously, I'd listen to the dwarves talking, and look over items for sale, ask questions of the merchants, who all thought I was too dumb to understand the deeper meanings behind it all." He shrugged. "I am much smarter then I look, after all."

"Don't I know it! He hasn't even questioned your size and age, seeing you in armor like that!" she laughed with him. "Very diplomatic explanation. Order of the Ruby Heart…" she sniffed. "Sounds like Cavaliers, associated with Aru?"

"Yes. They are nominally independent of the crown, so likely a better spot to hide him away. But, like most, they are Challenge-happy gloryhounds. They probably came up here chasing news of raiders from the North, got caught by overwhelming numbers, and fought to the death." Briggs shook his head. "If he's got Cavalier Levels, I'll talk him out of them."

"Aye, we've got to read that Assay of him, get him on the right path. Soul Magic is an awesome resource for Paladins, who tend to boss-killing. They are natural for the Thunder Dragon, too."

"So, Dragon Warrior, instead of Melee?"

"Yeah, being able to learn Forms and Techniques. Simply being able to cycle a Smite every two rounds with a One Strike will last him forever. Add in the Healing Strikes, the defensive stuff, and even before you get to the Chi-Spenders, he's gonna be rock solid."

"Definitely a self-Healing machine," he agreed. "We just have to get him in combat and keep him alive. Is that going to be a problem? He's still a kid."

"Him Paladin. Paladin Fearless via Aura of Courage. Sama think not problem," was her reply.

"What about after that?"

"Ignite his bloodline. Paladins have natural Celestial Bloodlines."

"Sorcerer? It would add into his Charisma skills…" Briggs trailed off.

"Basic bloodline ability is that holy flame power, fire damage, more against Evil, or a ranged heal, and independent of divine power. Plus, he gets wings at Ten."

Briggs snorted. "That's a long ways away for him and I," he judged, "but yeah, it sounds like the thing to do. And gives him more things to practice rep counts with," he added thoughtfully.

"If he's a cavalier-Paladin, he's woefully under-Skilled at this time. He might have a Noble level, given his birth, you violet-eyed detective you, so he might be a little broader, but most NPC's advanced on the Tower, not the Pyramid. Quicker path to survival and all that."

"Ironskulling lets you survive, but it kills in the long run," he agreed. The Karmic cost of gaining Levels in other Classes after you hit Ten was absolutely enormous compared to gaining them as you rose. Yeah, you got to do all the cool stuff early, but you simply didn't have the staying power of someone who took more time to get there.

It took as much Karma to gain a Level after Ten as it did to get to Ten in your Primary Class in the first place. The expenditure was colossal, as many overeager Tens going Ironskull had found out. And without that massive foundation, killing post-Ten CR critters was not at all easy.

Most importantly, nobody had ever made Eleven in the game, so lateral expansion was all you could do. Doing it post-Ten was paying premium prices for the same benefits as everyone else.

"Taking an NPC to a PC is a big change," mused Briggs, frowning somewhat. "And a nobleman, no less. He's a Paladin, but still… lots of education coming his way."

"I have had no information resources. What's he a Prince of?"

"Ah, Ogredown is one of the Five Kingdoms of the Rosencrux Empire, the one furthest north and so closest to us. The king there is naturally a warrior-type, as he has to deal with constant anthro, orc, and goblinoid attacks from the north and east, and probably found this latest batch of bad news very unwanted.

"He's also a lusty sot with a half-dozen concubines and a whole bunch of kids, some acknowledged, some not. The competition to succeed him is rather heated, to say the least, at least among his blood. However, it's the Emperor who has the final say, of course, but he's rather hands-off as far as personal succession goes, in most cases," Briggs summarized for her. "They get along well with the elves, after eating a bit too much magic a few centuries ago, and there's a very well-defined border at the forest edge, and a no-man's land outside it. There's skirmishing between woodcutters and poachers and the elves, but the Empire's actually learned some pretty good forest management, and on a military basis, they actually get along fairly well, what with common enemies and all.

"The areas of the Sidhete that border them that the elves don't occupy tend to be controlled by some very powerful and savage creatures that nobody wants to stir up, often with some very powerful Druidic back-up. Stalae got put up, the borders are marked, and everyone became happy with crossing at your own risk, after some plagues, famines, floods, and the like ravaged the borderlands for years, and some ridiculously powerful monsters, or hordes of them, ate everything in sight."