Runeblade: You shall not pass, Wanderer!

Kaius pulled up his new skill, eager to take his mind off the gory wound that dominated his peripheral vision.

Light Armour Mastery:

Level 1

Uncommon

The best defence is never getting hit in the first place. Unfortunately, it is sometimes unavoidable. Would you prefer cloth, or reinforced leather, when that occurs?

Skill that increases the defensive efficacy of worn light armour, and increases agility while wearing it.

Each level slightly increases the integrity of worn light armour.

Each level minutely increases ease of movement while wearing light armour.

Kaius nodded as he read the description, careful to avoid jostling the grievous wound to his shoulder. Increasing the durability of his clothes would be valuable. Though they barely counted as light armour, and even if he capped it out he doubted it would have made much difference to the lion that had savaged his shoulder.

Luckily, chain would, and as soon as his shoulder was healed up he planned on throwing the chain shirt he had scavenged on and never taking it off outside of the church.

With nothing else pressing, he decided to simply wait until he was healed. His eyes drifted over to the lion, his sword still standing proudly where he had embedded it in the creature's skull.

“I should probably grab that. No point leaving myself undefended, even if I would be in pretty dire straits if something else turned up.”

He pushed himself to his feet slowly, relying on the muscles in his leg and his core to do most of the work. Despite the smooth rise, he had to stifle a pained scream as his shoulder protested at the shifting movement.

He walked over to the lion with slow measured steps, taking care to avoid hurting his shoulder as much as possible. Grabbing hold of his sword, he pulled it free and groaned as agony tore through him. He stumbled towards the treeline where he would be less exposed.

Death was tied closely to life, he knew that far more than most having grown up in the wilds. The Arboreal Sea was a wild place, more untamed than even the frontier. This was not his first brush with his own mortality, not by far. Even if it was the closest.

He would be okay. He knew something like this would happen eventually. It happened to all delvers. Even if he had landed up in the Depths a few years too early, and far less prepared than he would like, it had always been his dream.

Growing up in the forest had lit a fire in him. One that burned to see the sights his father regaled him with stories of. To forge his own stories. Both deep down below and in the wide world above. If he wanted that he would need to be strong, and with strength came danger.

He needed to be prepared to live with his life on the line. Both if he wanted to escape the depths, and if when he eventually returned as a Delver in truth.

Leaning his back against a tree trunk to take some of the weight of his feet, he settled in to wait for his shoulder to heal.

After leaving the site of his battle with the lion, Kaius had managed to make his way to the spring that fed the stream he had been using for water. It had been a welcome respite. A way for him to wash off the blood, refill his water, and cleanse himself from the ardour of battle. The tonic he had taken during the fight had lasted him almost the whole walk to the water source, the better part of an hour. At his best guess, long enough to refill his health pool three times over.

He slung off his bag, throwing it down roughly onto the ground beside him, his extra water skins that he had tied to its exterior sloshing from the impact.

Ahead of him was another small cave that wound its way into the rock of the cavern. They seemed to be fairly frequent, as he passed them reasonably often in his journey around the cavern. This one however, was slightly different. A small stone shack was built into the cave wall next to it, with a handful of undead lingering outside.

These ones seemed fairly similar in makeup to the ones that had guarded the church, and he doubted that such a small structure would host a Guardian, so he wasn't too worried.

Perfect enemies to focus on a little skill training, and to help him gain Medium Armour Mastery. He could already feel his excitement rising at the prospect. The more time he spent down here, the more he craved the violent clash of steel and the explosive growth it brought.

Hurriedly unbuckling his belt, Kaius reached into his pack and shrugged on the set of chainmail he had scavenged from one of the churches.

It was poorly made, poorly preserved, and even more poorly fitted. While his reinforced tunic did well to prevent any chafing, the armour constricted his arms slightly and pinched horribly in the armpit. It was worth it. It was armour.

He’d been lucky. The clean sightlines of the clear strip at the edge of the glade had let him see the undead far before they had seen him. It gave him time to prepare. For a moment he considered trying a stealth approach, but the even lighting and lack of cover quickly disabused him of that idea.

Free of the weight of his pack, Kaius simply approached them openly; he'd decided against using a similar tactic to the one he had taken at the hunting lodge.

The undead didn't really have the numbers to force him to use a fighting retreat, and a full frontal assault was much more likely to aid him in his skill growth.

“It’d be quicker this way anyway.” He muttered to himself, drawing his sword in a smooth motion. Setting a brisk pace towards the undead that loitered outside the cave entrance, the distance dissolved beneath his feet.

As one the group acknowledged his presence with a stiff legged turn, vacant gazes training on him with unnerving synchronicity. As a collective they raised their motley weapons and charged. They were garbed in a ragtag collection of armour. Mostly leather, with the odd bit of chain or rusted plate reinforcing their vital areas.

Apart from two that were wearing helms, the armour was a bit pointless. Even a blow through the heart wouldn't slow them down.

None of them had anything longer than an arming sword either, further satisfying Kaius that a frontal confrontation would not put him at too much risk.

They met his charge with a haphazard run of their own, weapons rising in mindless violence to meet him in a crash of cacophonous steel and whirling blades. Kaius parried one of the undead, turning away its pitted mace and returning the favour by driving his sword through its face.

**Ding! level 12 Wretched Militiaman slain**

He stepped back quickly, trying to avoid being gutted by an arming sword. Swift footwork saved him from the full force of the blow, but he was unable to avoid it completely as the tip of the sword skittered along his chest. The dull blade screeched horribly as it skittered along his chain shirt.

Though the chain saved him from the worst of the injury, the sheer strength of the blow still caused him to wince as it bruised his flesh.

He retaliated with a stab that was quickly batted away by an undead holding a short-sword. Borrowing the momentum of the parry, he twirled his blade over his head before cleaving into the left most undead's unguarded head.

**Ding! level 11 Wretched Militiaman slain**

There were only three undead left now, including both of the ones who were wearing helmets. The focused his attention on the third undead, holding an ancient looking battle axe. Both of the helmeted undead stabbed towards him with their arming swords in a surprising display of unity. He parried the first thrust, but was forced to twist around the second blow, unable to bring his sword to bear in time. Its rust spotted edge crashed along his ribs, his chainmail saving him once again from suffering anything worse than a deep bruise.

**Ding! Parry has reached level 3!**

**Ding! Footwork has reached level 2!**

“I fucking love armour.” he thought to himself with a grin, spinning away from the advancing sword-wielding undead to engage the remaining monster. Already bringing its axe down in a savaged chop. Kaius' back stepped out of range, allowing the weight of the swing to pull the undead out of position. With its head unguarded he slew it with ease.

**Ding! level 11 Wretched Militiaman slain**

He pulled his blade free of the creature's skull to intercept a slash from one of the remaining militiamen, the sudden movement causing a spray of black blood to trail from his sword point. Pivoting into the movement he avoided yet another thrust from its compatriot.

He lunged forwards, the failed stab having left the undead open. He took it through the eye, the open faced helmet doing nothing to protect it from a frontal lunge.

**Ding! level 13 Wretched Militiaman slain**

Kaius settled in. With only one undead remaining it was time for him to enact his plan. He had a skill to earn, and he intended to get it without another unnecessary brush with death.

The last undead charged him, raising its sword before bringing it down towards his unguarded head. With a flick of his sword Kaius turned the blow. Instead of flowing smoothly into a riposte he simply reset his stance with a backstep, falling into a flexible mid guard.

Reengaging him with a wild diagonal swing, the undead tried to cut him through the shoulder. Kaius’s pupils narrowed to points, still shaken from the previous injury he had taken to the joint. He clamped down on the rising feeling of concern, discarding the unhelpful panic.

A smooth step took him into position and he shifted, allowing the sword through his guard. Its point skittered harmlessly across his mail. The strike still stung, small amounts of health syphoning away to heal the quickly forming contusion the arming sword left in its wake.

**Ding! Footwork has reached level 3!**

Another slash he allowed to glance off his shoulder, while the undead's follow up thrust cut harmlessly against the chain that defended his ribs. It tried to go for his head again, but Kaius simply parried the blow with the extra reach and power a two handed sword gave him.

Immediately the undead tried to follow up with another heavy overhand chop. Kaius decided to try something a little different. Afterall, he still needed to level his newest skills as often as he could.

He stepped into the swing, bringing his sword up to catch the weak of the undead's blade with his strong. The edge of his blade bit into the mundane metal of his opponents, binding their blades. The force of the collision caused Kaius to grunt, engaging the muscles in his legs and back to keep himself stable. His legs started to quiver, feet digging deep into the soft earth.

Even holding a position of greatly favourable leverage, with two arms to the undead's one, the creature's infernal strength was undeniable. It pushed down harder, Kaius clenching his teeth as he fought to keep himself steady.

He was at his limit.