Xangô’s POV: Day 9
Current Wealth: 5 silver
Current Debt: 6 gold 15 silver
[Appraisal]
* Class: Emperor
* Level: 3
* Condition: Worn
* Modifiers: +1 Toughness
* Statistics: Strength 5(4), Speed 5(4), Dexterity 6(5), Stamina 5(4), Toughness 6, Alertness 8, Charisma 9, Intelligence 8
* Inventory: Jeans, shirt, jacket, dagger
* Class abilities: Appraisal I
* Current Experience Points: 73/120
* Unspent Skillpoints: 1
It strained my eyes, and my mind, but apparently I could look at unspent Skillpoints and experience at the same time. That was useful.
Well, probably not actually, but it was just convenient enough to be worth the headache. And it confirmed that we’d benefitted from the troll-slaying. Probably? I shared my findings with the others.
Solitaire was the first to answer, battered though he still was.
“Do me,” He demanded, eager enough that his voice actually drew a pained snarl from him. I hurried up, if only to keep the idiot from oozing everywhere in his excitement.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Revolutionary
* Level: 3
* Condition: Critical
* Modifiers: None
* Statistics: Strength 6(2), Speed 6(2), Dexterity 8(3), Stamina 5(0), Toughness 6, Alertness 8(5), Charisma 3(2), Intelligence 10
* Inventory: Jeans, T-shirt, flick knife, rocks(x6), dagger
* Class abilities: Detect Element I
* Current Experience Points: 73/120
* Unspent Skillpoints: 1
“You’ve gained experience too.” I grinned, then eyed Beam.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Dragonknight
* Level: 2
* Condition: Fine
* Modifiers: None
* Statistics: Strength 8, Speed 8, Dexterity 8, Stamina 9, Toughness 7, Alertness 8, Charisma 6, Intelligence 5
* Inventory: Jeans, flannel shirt, spear
* Class abilities: Beloved I
* Current Experience Points: 0/110
* Unspent Skillpoints: 1
“And so have you.”
So we’d all gotten stronger, but why? The troll was worth a hundred points, were the bandits just worth none? Did specifically humans not give experience? What was going on?
Solitaire, annoyingly, was the one to pose the most likely theory.
“It’s Vampire: the Masquerade style experience.” He explained, awfully smug for a man outputting enough blood to fingerpaint.
I, not being a nerd, and even having sex with women on occasion, was a bit confused.
“Explain.” I demanded. He did.
“We get experience for accomplishing our tasks, not for killing enemies. Surviving, saving Beam, dragging that troll back, etc. So we can only expect to receive power-ups as a reward for actually getting things done.” He grinned. “This is very, very good news.”
I didn’t need him to explain why. If we had a system like that, it could be damned flexible. For all we knew we could gain experience and grow stronger by just making money, becoming landlords or something. We might not even need to risk our necks at all.
Then again, if we weren’t marching out into the wild, we wouldn’t get much benefit from becoming arrow proof in the first place. Either way, a matter for later. At the moment we were still very, very killable. And sitting on unused Skillpoints.
I focused, drawing on my experiences over the last mission- fuck, of course, it really was based on accomplished goals- and feeling it congeal in my mind. For the second time I tried to move it into Intelligence, focusing more intently on how this time.
Neurons, I decided. They were the best predictor of intelligence in animals. Humans had sixteen billion in our cerebral cortex, chimpanzees around six. Dogs, a mere five hundred million. How many extras could I manage with my levelup?
Apparently none. The power simply refused to move in that direction, and I was left growling my annoyance out again.
“I can’t make myself smarter.” I spat, glancing at my friends. “Anybody have any ideas why?”
Solitaire had a look that told me he’d tried exactly the same thing, and met the same result.
“...Maybe it just doesn’t work for anyone?” He suggested, thinking now. “It makes sense. If one levelup is noticeable, what would we do with a dozen? A hundred?”
I considered that. How big was the difference between 8 Strength and 5? Very. So what about 8 Intelligence vs 18?
It was hard to imagine, considering the annoyingly noticeable gap already separating me and Solitaire, that a man with Intelligence even approaching 20 would have much difficulty achieving anything. I wasn’t sure whether we were talking steam or nuclear, but he’d definitely be changing this world’s technology in less than a single lifespan. Doing all the things to it that a human would to sticks, stones and twine when dropped into a society of apes.
Reluctantly, I turned my focus back to the other stats. Alright, so I couldn’t figure out how to travel through time, talk people into suicide with a two minute conversation and deduce people’s life stories at a glance. There were other means of survival, ones that might actually be more immediately helpful than just having a bigger brain. I put my point into Toughness again.
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The familiar sensation returned, skin tightening, muscles grinding, bones quivering as energy suffused every inch of me. By the time it was done, I’d been so overwhelmed that the sensation of change barely even registered. But I did notice it. I felt hardier, more solid. And I checked my screen eagerly.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Emperor
* Level: 3
* Condition: Worn
* Modifiers: Toughness+2
* Statistics: Strength 5(4), Speed 5(4), Dexterity 6(5), Stamina 5(4), Toughness 7, Alertness 8, Charisma 9, Intelligence 8
* Inventory: Jeans, shirt, jacket, dagger
* Class abilities: Appraisal I
* Current Experience Points: 73/120
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
I snatched a glance at my friends, suddenly curious what they’d gone for.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Revolutionary
* Level: 2
* Condition: Critical
* Modifiers: +1 Speed
* Statistics: Strength 6(2), Speed 7(3), Dexterity 8(3), Stamina 5(0), Toughness 6, Alertness 8(5), Charisma 3(2), Intelligence 10
* Inventory: Jeans, T-shirt, flick knife, rocks(x6), dagger
* Class abilities: Detect Element I
* Current Experience Points: 73/120
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
Solitaire had chosen Speed? Well I could hardly blame him, actually, the option of sprinting away from that troll- or a few extra feet per second to our side steps- might’ve saved a certain someone his arm.
Beam was next, though, and if anything I was more curious about his menu than Solitaire’s. He’d not even spent a point before now.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Dragonknight
* Level: 2
* Condition: Fine
* Modifiers: +1 Strength
* Statistics: Strength 9, Speed 8, Dexterity 8, Stamina 9, Toughness 7, Alertness 8, Charisma 6, Intelligence 5
* Inventory: Jeans, flannel shirt, spear
* Class abilities: Beloved I
* Current Experience Points: 0/110
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
Strength? Well, actually, perhaps it made sense. Toughness might not be possible to increase high enough to make much difference in troll-hunts for a while, and our ability to stab through their tough hides and musculature had been horribly ineffective with the last.
I actually almost caught myself regretting my own choice for a moment. Then I noticed something very interesting.
“Ca- Beam,” I began, “We have the same Toughness stat.”
He eyed me, sceptical.
“You…Sure?” Was his answer. He was trying to be polite, obviously, but he might’ve saved himself the bother. I’ve been reliably informed I have the build of a 10 year-old girl, while he, as established with exhaustive detail, is a literal olympian.
And yet the numbers didn’t lie. Apparently my 60 kilogram ass- well, probably more like 55 now- had just as much damage-soaking ability as his 80kg length of muscle and sinew.
Solitaire let out a laugh.
“Good!” He declared. “That’s a helluva difference to be seeing already, I look forward to not dying when something farts on us one day.”
We shared a grin, which lasted about a second, then evaporated as a certain fucker stepped back into the front of the shop.
“Time’s up.” Magus Corvan snapped, affixing all three of us with a sneering glare. “What’ll it be, you getting healed or not?”
All eyes turned to me, and I resisted the sudden urge to start hitting my friends for leaving this decision squarely in my lap. I weighed the matter.
If we healed Solitaire magically, we’d only worsened our debt on this trip. On the other hand it would leave us where we’d started- except with spent experience, slightly better stats and more knowledge of troll hunting for our next outing.
Withholding our money, though, would leave us with an alleviated debt. 40 silver, out of 6 gold. Which would leave 5 gold and 10 silver still unpaid. It wasn’t a huge chunk, no matter how you sliced it. Barely even a chip in the great financial wall looming before us.
So, did I value a head start in reducing that, or did I value a chance for a doover with better odds than before?
For all I thought about it, the matter really didn’t take that long to be decided. Solitaire’s bowmanship had been a big part of what let us take the last troll down, we needed that, as well as whatever other skills he might save us with. In the end, we’d have to take another step into debt before we had enough space for a running start on our jump free.
Yeah, that sounded logical. Hopefully it’d only take a few dozen repetitions before I had myself actually believing it.
“We’ll take the healing.” I said at last, hating every word that came out of my mouth. Solitaire eyed me, but he didn’t glare. That was something at least.
The healing process was amazing, obviously. It was fucking magic. But the wonderful nature of the arcane was a bit less impressive when it was just serving to add another weight around your ankle. I found myself looking away halfway through, partially from bitterness, partially from apathy.
Solitaire was healthy and fine by the end of it, that was all that mattered. We said our goodbyes to Corvan- which consisted largely of a set of “fuck you”s, and took our leave from his shop, stepping outside just in time for the dark. And the cold.
A few more silver jingled away in our bag, and we spent them on a night in one of the town’s cheaper, shittier inns. The walls were thin, windows wood and open to the air. Every time a breeze hit the building’s exterior, at least a tenth of it rolled in to torture us inside, and we spent our entire night shivering, coughing and groaning in a corner, wrapped in our wafer-thin blankets and cursing the world.
People knew we were in pain. They knew we were suffering, that we needed help- help they had full power to give. And yet nobody lifted a damned finger, they all just…Ignored us.
More than once, I glanced at Solitiare, and found him staring out into nothing at all. Thinking, always thinking.
I did some thinking of my own, back to when he’d stoved that bandit’s head in. The hammer we’d long since abandoned, it would be far too risky carrying stolen goods through town, but I could still picture it vividly as anything. Almost as vividly as the look on his face when he swung it. Not cold, like the ice around us. Hot. Molten, like the blood and brains he was spilling out into the snow.
Why had Solitaire killed him? For his teeth, and pragmatism, and our friend? I wasn’t so sure. He’d always been angry, always been furious, even, at the world itself. At the humans- always humans, never people, in his words- who ignored all the evils he saw around us at every hour of the day.
Redacle was worse than our world had been in centuries, and its people were no less than you’d expect. If he got the chance, if he had the power, would he kill more of them?
I genuinely had no clue at all, and somehow I felt cold as we pressed our shoulders together for warmth, even despite the heat his body radiated.
We were what we experienced, I knew that better than anyone. And for the rest of that night, I was left wondering what the fuck this new world was doing to my friend.