Xango’s POV: Day 10
Current Wealth: 2 silver 11 copper
Current Debt: 6 gold 44 silver 20 copper
3 Skillpoints, 3. That was more than I’d have dared hope for from this trip.
But of course it was. We’d killed one troll, and that had been the plan. The second was utterly spontaneous, and given the sheer size of it I was half convinced we’d been cheated with even this reward-
But no, there was no time for thoughts like this, I had some fucking powers to improve. I turned to my friends while the Witchfinder did whatever to his new partner-shaped smear, bringing up their menus just like I had my own.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Revolutionary
* Level: 5
* Condition: Worn
* Modifiers: +1 Speed
* Statistics: Strength 6(5), Speed 7(6), Dexterity 8(7), Stamina 5(4), Toughness 6, Alertness 8, Charisma 3, Intelligence 10
* Inventory: Jeans, T-shirt, flick knife, rocks(x6), dagger
* Class abilities: Detect Element II
* Current Experience Points: 83/140
* Unspent Skillpoints: 3
[Appraisal]
* Class: Dragonknight
* Level: 4
* 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 II
* Current Experience Points: 120/130
* Unspent Skillpoints: 2
I grinned, telling both Solitaire and Beam about their new powers even as I saw the two of them figuring it all out on their own. None of us said much, after that, all having something far more important to focus on. The only exchange between us was some idle questioning about the big troll’s stats, and some widening eyes upon hearing them.
Toughness again. I saw no other choice, it hadn’t saved me this time, but it could have. There was a nugget of doubt in my mind at the selection now, after seeing what that troll could do one-armed I was dubious I’d ever be resilient enough to withstand this world’s biggest threats, but if nothing else I could widen my odds against the smaller beasts. Or humans. I funnelled all of my Skillpoints with a practice that was deepening every time I gained a new one, letting the glorious sensation wash over me.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Emperor
* Level: 6
* Condition: Worn
* Modifiers: +5 Toughness
* Statistics: Strength 5(4), Speed 5(4), Dexterity 6(5), Stamina 5(4), Toughness 9, Alertness 8, Charisma 9, Intelligence 8
* Inventory: Jeans, shirt, jacket, dagger
* Class abilities: Appraisal II
* Current Experience Points: 23/150
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
I did feel different, now. Warmer. It was like the winds had died down around me, the snow half-thawed mid air. All the heat that the woodland had been drawing from my flesh was resisting eviction, now clinging to me far more fiercely than before, and I felt feeling slowly bleed back into the tips of my fingers and toes .
There’s a lot I’ve experienced since coming to Redacle, things that continued for years after these first few weeks, but even to this day, not many measured up to the experience of seeing, feeling, that I was gaining tangible progress from my rising numbers. Growing stronger, safer, more secure in my place.
I caught the growing feeling of invincibility and throttled it to nothing. I was level fucking six, and I had no delusions that a solid hit from that giant troll would’ve been the end for me even now. The very beginning was no time to be getting cocky at all. Not in a world where the levels went to 50 or higher.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Revolutionary
* Level: 5
* Condition: Worn
* Modifiers: +4 Speed
* Statistics: Strength 6(5), Speed 10(9), Dexterity 8(7), Stamina 5(4), Toughness 6, Alertness 8, Charisma 3, Intelligence 10
* Inventory: Jeans, T-shirt, flick knife, rocks(x6), dagger
* Class abilities: Detect Element II
* Current Experience Points: 83/140
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
Solitaire had chosen Speed again. I was almost tempted to question him, but it would have been an instinctive, gut reaction and unproductive. I’d specialised just as much, myself, and was hardly in a position to argue. Besides, if anything our most recent altercation was proof that running ability would be saving our skins a lot more reliably than mere durability or killing power.
[Appraisal]
* Class: Dragonknight
* Level: 4
* Condition: Fine
* Modifiers: +1 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Toughness
* Statistics: Strength 9, Speed 9, Dexterity 8, Stamina 9, Toughness 8, Alertness 8, Charisma 6, Intelligence 5
* Inventory: Jeans, flannel shirt, spear
* Class abilities: Beloved II
* Current Experience Points: 120/130
* Unspent Skillpoints: 0
Odd that Beam was the only one among us dispersing his Skillpoints, but then, he was the one among us who already excelled in areas of physicality at all. Probably he figured he was best off just widening the gap that already separated his individual abilities from other people. Probably, he was right.
“Does…Anyone feel any different?” I asked, eagerly. Beam shrugged.
“Lighter maybe?” He seemed to question his own answer, which didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. Solitaire didn’t say anything at all, to begin with. Just sidestepped.
Sidestepped faster than Beam could have, and grinned.
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“Apparently I do.” His laughter was the same sort I’d heard a thousand times before, but tinged with a relief, and a desperation, that…Warped it. It was the laugh of a starving man who’d finally found himself a meal, strained and wild and just a little bit touched by madness.
“He’s coming.” Beam hissed, and Solitaire reacted whip-fast, instantly snapping himself still and becoming as rigid as a damned cage bar just in time for the Witchfinder to trudge on over.
Would he have noticed any difference, if he’d seen him suddenly moving around as if he’d spent ten years training between minutes? Probably not, given the circumstances, but better to be overly cautious than under. We were fairly sure our rapid levelling up wasn’t a feature of this world, as it hadn’t been in our books. Which meant that keeping it to ourselves was probably the best move, if only to unbalance the people who thought they’d already gotten our measure.
Forward thinking, and useless in the time being, because if the bastard in shining armour marching over right now put his mind to it, I suspected he could have killed all of us at once either way.
Part of me wanted Solitaire to try and speak first, but I knew that I was the best suited for the job. I always kept my cool better, and what we probably needed here was a negotiation in any case. If it came down to intimidation, we were fucked.
“Thank you for your help.” I called out to the man, speaking with about ten times as much confidence as I felt. In fact, I even sounded slightly fucking confident. If he noticed, it had no effect on him, save to turn his visored face toward me and leave me seizing up beneath a glare that felt oddly similar to that of a sniper.
“I wasn’t here to help you.” The Witchfinder’s voice was completely beyond my expectations. Not some brutish, hulking grunt, not the velvety drawl of some refined man of thought and nobility. He just sounded like a guy. An echoey guy, speaking from behind a few millimetres of steel, and a royally pissed off guy, but still nobody I couldn’t have run into at a bar.
It was a miracle, considering that, that he managed to send such a palpable chill dancing down my spine. My heart skipped a beat before I answered, and barely burped out its normal rhythm while I did.
“Well,” I forced a smile, “You still did-”
I didn’t see the punch, and I barely even felt it. One moment Sir Droolsalot was standing a few feet from me, the next he was a big silvery streak in the air, disappearing from one place then replacing himself with a wall of black and a storm of dancing stars in my vision. My feet left the ground, my thoughts left the stratosphere, and when I finally came to I was lying on my back at least six feet from where I’d been when the blow came.
The Witchfinder was standing over me a moment later, visored face turned down, body blocking the sun that was only just creeping past noon.
“My partner and I had been tracking that troll for weeks.” He snarled, so savage in his anger that a few flecks of spit actually cleared the coverage of his helmet and fell down around me. “We had our hunt all lined up and ready to finish. Then you and your idiot friends started hunting its children for money, and drew it out of its hiding place.”
My idiot friends were already moving in around him, Beam marching up front, Solitaire circling from behind. Both had knives, and in an instant the Witchfinder’s hand was filled by a shortsword I hadn’t seen scabarded before. All of us froze, except for him. His voice suddenly more calm, not less, for the blades drawn.
“I’m not going to kill any of you.” He snarled. “Even though each one of you deserves it, that is not the Witchfinder’s way. I serve God, and do His bidding in cleansing this world of monsters, daemons and practitioners of dark sorcery. You are…Not among them. But see to it that you never cross my paths again, for I will never forgive any of you for killing my friend in your stupidity.”
Not one of us moved. We didn’t twitch, we didn’t speak, we barely even breathed. It was only when the Witchfinder had turned himself around and stalked off into the woods that any of us broke the silence.
And, of course, it was Solitaire who did, voice edged and hushed.
“Let’s hurry up and grab the trolls.” He urged. “I want to be out of here before that crazy bastard can come back with his mates.”
I spent a moment staring at him, completely stunned by the lunatic’s suggestion. It was so absurd, so reckless, that it took me the better part of ten seconds to actually formulate a coherent answer, and even then it was riddled with gasps.
“Are you insane?!” I demanded, feeling my temper flare up and body burn with adrenaline- compounding my newfound resistance to the cold, it almost left me sweating.
“Are you?” Solitaire snapped back, never one to enjoy being questioned on matters he took seriously. “How much did we get for the last one? Forty silver? That big fucker’s got to weigh two, even three times as much! I wouldn’t even give up the little one, let alone that.”
I glanced towards the corpse, and even I had to admit it was a tempting prospect. If not for one tiny little issue.
“It weighs two or three times as much.” I noted, trusting Solitaire’s estimate almost as much as I would the result of dropping it down onto some scales. “How exactly do we drag that back? Let alone with the smaller one too.”
His smile didn’t waver.
“I can help now.” Solitaire said, flatly. “And we have about twice as long to do it. Plus, Beam is about twenty five percent stronger. I’m around twenty five percent stronger than you, too, and you’re around two fifths as strong as he was before. So in total we can apply around fifty percent more pulling power.”
That earned a frown from me. Was he just pulling numbers from his ass?
No, he wasn't. But he knew that I’d be confused too, the bastard always grinned like he was grinning now, when he knew someone would be baffled by him.
“I kept a very careful power scale when writing stories set in Redacle.” He explained, smugly. “Magical creatures overcome the square-cube law by gaining extra pound for pound strength that lets them lift their own weight, no matter how big they get. It’s why size is such a pure advantage for our monsters, and it’s how I know that each one point increase to a stat is around a twenty to thirty percent buff from the previous level. It’s consistent with basically all the numerical differences we’ve seen, and we can test this hypothesis more if you want.”
If you want, implying the only reason we’d have to test it was to satisfy me. As if his guess were as good as law.
It might well have been, too. I grinned even as I swore at him, sometimes it was rather useful to know someone with more brains than sense.
Then I was frowning again. I couldn’t work numbers like Solitaire could, but I wasn’t a moron either.
“One and a half times the pulling power, but three or four times the weight?”
He shrugged.
“It definitely is going to be harder.” Solitaire conceded. “But much more lucrative, too, and as I said, we have more time. At worst we can leave one of them to finish our trip with the other if it’s harder than expected.”
I considered his words, turning them over in my head, trying to find a fault. Then swore when I couldn’t.
Solitaire grinned away while the three of us started moving, grunting with the effort as we all started dragging our prizes to stack one onto the other. It’d make them easier to move at once.