CHAPTER FORTY
CHARACTER BUILDS
----------------------------------------
Rio
He was right. I didn’t like it. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a better option unless we found the entrance they’d used to take Todd and possibly Nora. We knew it had to exist. The idea of those imps dragging someone across eighteen miles unnoticed, even in the sparsely populated Ozarks, back to our cave’s entrance was ludicrous.
So either we lucked out and found that entrance in Boyerton fast, or we followed my husband’s idea, which relied on a few too many ‘I-hope-it-works-this-way’ guesses for me.
He didn’t have any more portal stones, and he hadn’t found any during his latest foray down there, which told me they were pretty rare. His idea was to go down alone and kill imps until he found one. Then when he used it, hope that he could direct where the other end of the portal would come out, when it had thus far always returned us to the house. Then he’d also hope that I could use it to go back down there when it appeared on the other end.
“I love your choices, by the way,” he said suddenly as we continued driving toward Dowell. Theo had already called and confirmed that Dane was there.
“Huh?” I asked, confused.
“Your build. It’s kinda funny. Both of us pretty much chose the same starting skills from separate classes,” he said. “We both chose turrets. It’s kind of complementary, though if we’re fighting together, we should probably change it up a little.”
“Oh. You meant my skills. I mean… I didn’t have many options. The trap was the only thing that didn’t require some sort of weapon, except maybe the poisons. After that, the ability to make more traps quicker seemed pretty smart. Todd helped with that. I chose Phase on my own, though. It seemed like a logical choice for anybody to take. I’d… I’d still be down there if not for it.”
“No,” he insisted. “I’d have gotten you out by now. I gained two more levels hunting for you, but I haven’t distributed the skills or the points yet. I figured… well. I figured we should probably talk about our builds together. Decide what we wanted.”
I snickered.
He blinked at me. “What?”
“You,” I said.
“Me what?”
“You. Making this into one of your character builds. You’re right… I didn’t think about that, and you’re absolutely right. I just think it’s bitterly amusing that you’re finally getting me to play D&D,” I said with a small smile.
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve played in years anyway…”
I winced. We’d moved out here for me, my school, and my job, but it had taken him away from most of his friends and family and many better job opportunities. I thought it ate at him sometimes, but only a little. He loved a lot about living out here as well.
“Well then, Dungeon Master. What skills should we pick, and what stats should we get? I don’t have any free stat points, but I have one skill point I still haven’t used, eff-why-eye,” I said.
He snickered. I relaxed a little. I’d been wound tight these past few days. I didn’t like being mad at him. Maybe I still should’ve been, but in my experience, getting mad never really fixed anything. This might, though.
“Well. We’ve both got turrets or rather, traps and totems, that are basically quick-acting artillery. I feel like you should probably stick with that route. Rogues are typically really good at getting in and out of tight spots but not so great at taking hits. Keep a fuck-load of those traps around you active all the time, and you might never have to worry.”
“I’ve been wondering about that,” I said as we slowed down behind a semi-truck that would turn this twenty-minute drive into a half hour. Those things moved glacially slowly in the mountains, but we were used to them. They were just a fact of life here.
“About what?” he asked.
“Traps, and Totems. Like you said, they’re more like turrets than either of those things. So… what gives?” I asked.
“Oh. That. I’d been thinking about it too, and I have a theory,” he said.
“Hit me,” I said.
“You said someone… uh. Olivia, right? Found a journal from someone who wrote in English, but it felt more Shakespearian than modern, right? That, and the things that drop from these monsters, probably would’ve been pretty common a thousand years ago. I think this whole system was geared towards people from back then. I don’t know if they would’ve even had a word for turret. Traps and totems might’ve been a lot more common, though.”
I thought that over for a moment. “Solid evidence. You might need to google the etymology of turret, trap, and totem. Also, how does that explain the direct deposit thing?”
He blinked before shrugging. “Magic, I guess? Read some of the class descriptions, and tell me I’m completely off base! I don’t have much proof for it. Still, don’t you think there’s something to it? The endless piles of arrows that drop? I even saw crossbow bolts drop more than once, but no bows. Or better yet, bullets.”
“That sure would help,” I said. “If it were bullets dropping every time we killed an imp, we’d be set down there.”
“Speaking of, that leads me to the first skill I think you should pick up,” he said impishly. “Eagle Eye.”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“Nice transition,” I piped in.
“Thank you!” he said, smiling.
“So… tell me why I should choose Eagle Eye. I think I remember reading that one. It’s the accuracy skill from the Ranged Weapons tree, right?” I asked. “I’m not sure being better with a bow and arrow will… er… wait.”
I pulled up the relevant skill from the skill tree and noticed something.
“It’s all ranged weapons. Not just bows,” I said. “You think it will work with guns?”
Theo was grinning like a loon. “I think it's more than worth a shot. With you able to hit damn near anything with a bullet, that leaves me to be our frontline.”
“But… didn’t you just have turrets too?” I asked. “What can Druids do? For that matter, how do you know my class’s skills?”
He looked at me blandly. “Just think about the druid skill tree. It should pop right up.”
I flushed when it appeared just as he’d suggested. The system, whatever it was, seemed to know when I wanted to see the screen and when I was simply discussing it. Which was good, as I realized Theo was driving and hadn't needed to worry about sudden screens blocking his view at all.
I quickly shuffled through all the classes and discovered I could easily see them and their special traits.
“Oh, Jody… what the hell were you thinking?” I murmured as I read over the Necromancer’s class skill.
Note: If you choose to become a Necromancer you will gain the level-independent attribute Corruption. The higher your corruption, the stronger your spells become, but the more difficult it will be to see the light.
He’d chosen that. He had barely even hesitated. With the way he’d been calling me a witch early on, I’d have thought he’d go for Paladin. Maybe even Cleric. But no, that snide asshole had gone straight for the class most likely to fuck him up.
“Jody… that was the guy who took Necromancer, right? Ex-Marine who kept harassing Chester?”
‘The goth cleric,’ I finished before mentally slapping myself. ‘Get a fucking grip, Rio, he might be dead...'
‘And I left him there…’
I shuddered. Theo and his damn sensitivity noticed immediately, even though his eyes never left the road.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned him,” he said.
“No. No… It’s fine. I’m just… feeling guilty. We need to get down there. Fast.”
He shrugged. “Worst case scenario we can just storm the cave. You’ve got Phase. If that works like you said, it should keep you safe until you get far enough that they either can’t catch you or don’t dare to. The problem with that is the greeting we’d get when we return. They might arrest us.”
I chuckled.
“And what prison could hold me, now?” I joked, amused.
He blinked.
“Good god, my wife is terrifying,” he said with a laugh.
“I always was, honey…” I replied with a hint of our old levity.
We sobered after that and spent a few minutes listening to an Alan Jackson tune. It was good. Good music. I liked Alan, but this particular song was an inferior remake. The original was better, but I couldn’t remember the artist’s name. Eddie… something? Damn.
“So… about my class,” Theo butted in when the song ended. “Thus far, I’ve been devoting myself to ranged combat. That’s probably not the best idea if you’re going to be our gunslinger. What you need, I figure, is a bigass shield to make sure nothing gets to you.”
“Hey, now. I never agreed to take Eagle Eye,” I replied, though the more I looked at my skills the better the idea seemed. As long as it worked with guns, it would be priceless. If it didn’t, it would be a waste of a skill. As best I could tell, we didn’t get to change skills after the fact.
“If it doesn’t work with guns, you know it’ll be a complete waste, right?” I asked.
“Yeah… but no risk, no reward, and I figure improved aim works regardless of your weapon. You don’t have to choose it if you don’t want to, but for my peace of mind, I think it would be best if you tried to. If it does work, then I’m really excited about cooler skills like “Pull Shot” and “Hailstorm.” Even if it doesn’t work on guns, I’d still rather see you using a bow and arrow than daggers. Or poisons, for that matter.”
I chuckled. “I dunno. Poisons might be nice to have handy, keep you in line. Make sure you don’t ever pull any of this shit again.”
He winced and sent me an apologetic look.
I patted him on the shoulder to let him know it was mostly a joke. He was forgiven, but I’d make sure he remembered this fuckup. Lying to me about a fucking demon invasion. Honestly!
The truck in front of us finally pulled aside at some empty driveway, and Theo sped up. We’d be there soon.
“So, what did you mean by ‘big-ass shield’?” I asked, breaking the silence before it became oppressive.
He sighed. “I’ve been avoiding it so far. Frankly, I’m a little creeped out by the ability, but it seems like it would make a lot of sense to take.”
“Which one?” I asked, hunting through the Druid skills for one that might creep him out.
“Large Creature. The Shapeshifting tab,” he said. “It’s got a high mana cost, but you were able to use your high-cost abilities, so I know it's probably not so high that I can’t use it at all. The only thing I’m worried about is that it might make all the powers I’ve gotten so far useless. Can I cast the Gripping Vines if I’m a bear or something?”
He shrugged.
“Its a risk, same as Eagle Eye then,” I said. “Potentially waste a skill learning about the system, rather than getting stronger.”
“I’ve got two free skills and eight points I can distribute. My class prefers Strength and Wisdom, which I assume empowers the shapeshift forms and the healing aura. I haven’t been leaning toward Strength much, though, since I wasn’t really planning to go the shapeshifting route. I’m also sure we need to pick more stats than just the ones your class focuses on. For example, Wisdom doesn’t make my mana pool larger. Intelligence does.”
My eyes glazed over as he continued speaking nerd to me, and I stopped him with an upheld hand.
“English, please. Mana pools and healing auras. Wisdom versus Intelligence… Just… ugh. I probably need a run-down of exactly what these stats do.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. There’s no exact detail list that I’ve found for them. All I know for sure is that there are occasionally Strength requirements for equipment. Dexterity too. I’m pretty sure Wisdom affects how fast you get mana back, and Intelligence is how much Mana you have to work with. I’m pretty sure you know Constitution. You said you bumped four points into it when you saw how low it was, but in case you didn’t, I’m pretty sure its how many hits you can take. Charisma is how good you are at talking to people, mixed with a healthy blend of how good you look. I… have… probably been wasting some points there, in retrospect.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, he had. When we met, and even when we got married, I’d never seen the crippling self-doubt my husband had. He hated his body, and it became more and more prevalent the better I got to know him.
He made token efforts to stay in shape, but they usually didn’t amount to much: a run here, a week at the community center gym there. Frankly, I didn’t care. I’d always thought he was attractive, though I’d always liked big guys, to the unending consternation of most of my friends. Maybe he’d put on a bit more weight since our wedding, but not as much as he thought he had. Two hundred and seventy pounds looked good when you were six foot and an inch, and I knew he rounded up every time he stepped on the scale.
Sweet, gentle, a little dumb, and a monster when he felt the need to be, but never towards me.
“You’re an idiot,” I said gently.
He smiled. “I know. Love me anyway?”
I gave a small smile and held up my first finger and thumb to where they almost touched. “A little.”
----------------------------------------