Skye is the Limit by Phenomenal Pen (best ebook reader ubuntu .TXT) 📖

“Don’t you guys realize what this is?” he asked.

The others stared back at him blankly.

“A covered-up well?” Nethril offered.

“No! This is a Save Point! We’ve finally reached it and now, every time we die, we’re going to spawn right here. We won’t need to go all the way back to the rolling hills!”

“Ohh…” the others exclaimed, looking at the well with more gratitude.

“How do you know it’s a Save Point?” the Count asked.

“Because of this.” Man-At-Arms pointed at a faint, inconspicuous mark on the well wall. It was a Benben stone symbol similar to the one that Mage drew back in the inn room.

“Now all we need to do is find a way to activate this thing. I mean, how are we supposed to save data in the Dark Ages anyway?”

Eliciting a wince from Nethril, Man-At-Arms was groping all over the moldy stone wall trying to find a hidden trigger mechanism. He was hoping for something like what Hordo had in his chest of drawers.

“In my honest opinion,” Mage said, “I do not think it is a well.”

“What is it then?” Man-At-Arms asked.

“It is a stone table,” Mage answered. “I would venture a guess that we are required to place our weapons on it.”

“Good eye, Mage,” Man-At-Arms said. “All right, let’s try that.”

First came Bear Tooth, who lowered his axe. As soon as the hefty weapon touched the stone, invisible runic engravings began to glow in its section of the table. Next was Nethril with her Dreamcraft quiver. Third was the Count, who unsheathed his two-hander from his sword belt. The stone table was glowing like a Christmas tree now. In addition, other runes emerged along the edges of the Count’s sword.

“Cool…” Bear Tooth mumbled, the word sounding like “coor”.

Mage lay down his wooden staff with the same effect. Now the only one who still hadn’t done his part was Man-At-Arms but it was because he didn’t have a weapon of his own. The only things he had were some tools in his utility pouch, leftovers from his Blacksmith iteration. He had a swage, a cutter, a chisel, a hammer, a knife, a rasp, a file and a couple horseshoe nails. 

“Well, I guess this is all I got,” he said, casually pulling out the hammer.  

As soon as the words left his lips, there was a resounding boing and a whoosh. The Dreamwalkers stood gaping. 

All at once, Man-At-Arms was carrying an auric sledge hammer courtesy of his Anima bracelet. It resembled the mallet used for a high striker at carnival, with a head for Whac-A-Mole. The size of the metal head was so outrageous it didn’t seem physically possible for Man-At-Arms to hold the weapon properly, but he did.

He placed his new weapon alongside the others and the glow of the runes increased to a dazzling brightness.

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