Quotes featuring Teriarch

“Ah, of course. Clothing.”

“Sit up.”

“Stand, please.”

“[Repair].”

“You refused to level up out of principle. Because you think…it empowers you too much?”

“My spells of appraisal and identification told me nothing of your class or level when I cast them. And yet you are neither undead nor construct, and you are entirely Human. Why can I not see your class?”

“Human, be silent and still. Do not speak or move save that I require a response. I will ask you questions, and you will answer to the best of your abilities, promptly and audibly. You will perform no magic and act in no violent ways while you are in my home.”

“Very well. But then tell me—why did you risk such a dangerous request? Three of your kind have perished already attempting to reach my home. What drove you to risk death for this delivery?”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. Now, I wish for you to answer this question freely, but also honestly.”

“Also, do not defecate, befoul, or otherwise sully this place in any way, shape, or form. And stand up straight.”

“Hm. Another new nation. How troubling. The name feels more Chandrarian, but I suppose…well, a map should sort this out.”

“Very well, then tell me: where do you come from? I have not seen features nor skin color such as yours on this continent for…a long time. Where were you born?”

“Hm. I see. How very mundane.”

“…As a half-Elf. Yes. Philosophical inquiry into the function of classes and levels is far more pertinent to any discussion. Although—you probably don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you? That’s a rhetorical question. Don’t answer it. Of course, you don’t know what a rhetorical question is, either. Human education being what it is—”

“Well of course, I would assume—”

“Ah. I see that you are marginally more intelligent than the others I have met. Very well then, perhaps you will be able to answer my next question as well.”

“Very well. In that case, hear my request. You have come here seeking payment and a delivery. I will offer you your paltry sum, but you will complete my request, sparing no effort to fulfill it, either by your own hands or ones more qualified. Is that understood?”

“Indeed, indeed. That is good. Well then, have you heard of a strange child known as Ryoka Griffin? She is a Runner, like you, although presumably high-level in the [Runner] class, unlike you. I am told her leg is currently injured or she may have been recently healed. Do you know of her?”

“Young nations rising and falling is hardly something to keep note of for someone of my lifespan…”

“Indeed? Do you know her address, a location where she stays at night? I have tried scrying her with magic, but either the name I was given was wrong or she is protected by powerful magic.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wish to know of any ongoing major wars between multiple nations, new technologies or spells developed, legendary monsters sighted or slain—import of that nature. Tell me all the news you have heard of in the past several years or so. What has transpired while I have been…secluded here?”

“Very well, very well. I shall have to ask again for her true name, if that is the case. Although why Reinhart would have failed to extract her full name astounds me.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you do. Ah, I’d forgotten how Humans exaggerate and lie.”

“Speak.”

“I suppose the easiest way would be to go wherever the undead are most prevalent. He has an army. A fortress of the dead, to be exact. If you can make it here…well, you are the only Runner to reach even my humble abode, so I must take the chance.”

“Here. Take this as your fee for delivery. As to your fee for arriving here, albeit injured—”

“The Bloodfields should be empty, but—just in case, and in addition to my generous remunerations, I shall present you with this wand. It is a powerful flame wand for self-defense.”

“Mana poisoning? You would certainly not have died from the amount of mana you imbibed. Violent illness, fever, and uncontrollable bodily excretion would have been the worst you would have suffered over the next few days if I had left it alone.”

“Confounded hair—I suppose I should have expected as much from a Human Runner. Without levels. Very well. If that is the case…”

“You will go to the area known as the Blood Fields and locate the individual known as Az’kerash. Or—perhaps he uses his former, Human name. Perril. Perril Chandler, I believe.”

“Do not wear the ring or you will suffer excruciatingly. The same goes for opening the letter, is that clear?”

“The potion is a concoction that will enhance your speed greatly. Do not drink it all at once. A single dose should suffice for any monster, undead or otherwise, that you encounter. With it, you should be able to reach Perril Chandler more or less intact. Be sure not to confuse mana potions with health potions either. Your mana poisoning was most inconvenient to deal with.”

“I heard you. Be silent.”

“This is why…Humans…it cannot be helped. Hm. A Courier would have been far more preferable. But if the issue is simply a matter of survival and speed, I suppose…”

“Regardless, do not injure yourself unnecessarily while fulfilling my task. Take this letter and this ring.”

“And waste time? No. I will expedite the first leg of your journey. Regardless of my healing, you will need several days no doubt to fully recover from the magic used and prepare for the journey ahead of you. Do not delay.”

“Do not waste its effects. It is worth far more than the gold I gave you. Now, this city Celum—it is not too far from here, yes?”

“Oops. Ah, well. This is why Humans use healing potions after all.”

“Flayed scales and hoard blight!”

“Do not use it unless you are removed from your target. You understand? If you have no need of it on this trip—it will doubtless sell for some good coin. I trust you will do your best to survive. Retrieving my gift and message would be inconvenient.”

“The spell will take you to the heart of the city. Go, and carry out my request as soon as you are able.”

“You see, the rhetorical question was first invented by the Dragons. Only naturally. Of course, Elves and Dwarves adopted the practice, but it was Dragon-kind that first thought of a question that had no need for an answer. Elves were too in tune with nature; they expected answers to pop up, possibly from the rocks and trees they talked to. Dwarves on the other hand are literal creatures. If they ask you a question, they demand an answer. Humans on the other cl—hand…”

“He is a powerful mage. A [Necromancer], to be exact. But I believe he would be most easily identifiable by appearance. His hair is pale white, as is his skin. His eyes are violet. Although—he may use illusion spells to conceal such features when moving about. You may have heard of him as the Necromancer of Terandria and that he had passed away—he has not. Hence the geas—the rest of the world thinks him dead, and I would not wish to start another continental war, possibly intercontinental, by making a mess of things.”

“I am not familiar with either name. What nation does this Oakland California hail from?”

“Simply for that? No other reason?”

“I care not about your name, but you are a Runner, a messenger, yes?”

“But I forget my audience. You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Well, as interesting as this has been, I have no further questions for you. Runner, tell me, are you one of the better Runners in your guild, despite your lack of levels?”

“Magic is not the solution here. The one I wish to deliver a letter and small item to—he is shielded from location or communication from any form of spell, either malign or beneficial. As am I. I cannot discern his location nor speak with him save through the slowest of methods, which is why I requested a Runner. Also, it is the principle of the thing. I am not doing this out of pleasure, but obligation. Damned obligation…ahem. Thus, I will also require your return to report success.”

“Naturally, his bodyguards will attempt to slay you. No doubt they regard all living beings as a threat. You must simply make your way to him, regardless of the peril. Besides, most of the animated dead are slow and easy to outrun.”

“Was it intentional? If you were attempting to augment your body, I must tell you it was done poorly. A minuscule increase to your diet is the only way to properly acclimatize the Human body to magic. Not that I would expect modern mages to know how to naturalize magic within themselves.”

“You are a Runner, are you not? Can you not simply outrun arrows?”

“Celum? Celum…ah. I believe I remember the general vicinity.”

“A teleportation spell. Have you not—but of course, I suppose your mages are too weak for that. Now, where do you live?”

“Awaken, Human.”

“You have no level? And you refuse to accept a class? Why? Fascinating. Are we back to this again? You don’t hail from Zeres, do you? No?”

“Oh. You are serious. Incredible. Well, one supposes extraordinarily misguided egos do appear rarely. You have not seen what levels can do then, young woman. How very narrow your worldview is.”

“But everyone is capable of levelling. The purest form of meritocracy, some call it. A few have considered there are benefits to doing without, but I have never met someone who denies levelling purely based on a disdain for its merits. You do not crave the power of Skills? At all?”

“I suppose it would violate the basic rules of hospitality not to inquire. So tell me Runner—what is your name? I am Teriarch. Speak it not but remember it, for what it is worth.”

“Do you at least know if Magnolia Reinhart still lives?”