———————

Name: Shin

Race: Kobold (Monster)

Class: Schemer (Lvl 5)

Description: Formerly a meaningless mongrel, now a mostly meaningless kobold, Shin is suspiciously adept at turning lucky breaks into obscene windfalls. A sneaky little git, what Shin lacks in refined strategic sensibilities he nearly makes up for in underhanded cunning and shameless opportunism.

Stats:

* Str: 10

* Agi: 11

* Tgh: 10

* Int: 14

* Wis: 14

* Prs: 16

Traits: Enhanced Senses (Kobold), Ranged Expertise, Armor Proficiency (Medium), Simple Proficiency

Class Features: Leadership (Auras Known: Inspiring, Careful, Bold), A Certain Low Cunning, Opportunism

———————

First things first.

“Did anyone else’s name change?”

“Eh?” Gert glanced up from her Status Screen, then cast her eyes back to the top of the sheet. “Oh. Yes. I’m Gero now.”

“I’m still Momo~!”

Something in that last one sounded a little different, but Shin figured it was close enough. Okay, next question. “Is anyone else’s Status a bit…condescending?”

Gero made a face. “What? No.”

Momo didn’t seem to have that particular issue either. “Mine’s kinda nice, actually.”

Good. Great. Grand.

Blah.

Setting aside the fact that his Status Screen apparently had some sort of beef with him, there was still a lot to unpack. Like the massive update to his stats, for example. All of these numbers were certainly bigger than his old ones, but he didn’t have a reference point for whether they were not just bigger but actually good.

Shin had to allow himself a second to marvel at the fact that he’d just philosophically separated the concepts of ‘Big’ and ‘Good’ without batting an eye. It wasn't so long ago that that very dilemma rocked him to his core.

Fortunately, he no longer needed to guess about such things. Now, he could avail himself of the wisdom earned from age and experience. “Moots, what’s the statline of a Level One Player?”

Moots scratched at his beard, mulling that over. “Baby Player, no Class no Experience? Tens all day. S’pretty standard stuff.”

“And when they gain a Level? How much of a boost is that?”

“Depends.” The old man shrugged. “‘Bout five points per level’s the usual? Class’ll matter, sometimes. Other things too. But Ol' Moots ain’t nosin’ around in matters what don’t concern’m. Hands that don’t wander don’t get no slap.” He glanced meaningfully back at the mound of dirt he’d just finished piling up. “Well. Most times.”

Shin followed Moots’ eyes. “Did you bury what was left of that Player over there?”

When the old man nodded, Momo balked in surprise. “Really? Like he was poop?”

“He was poop.” Gero gave Moots an approving nod. “Good work, I say.”

“Wha’? No, no.” Moots shook his head, then briefly reconsidered. “Well yeah, he sure was a nasty one, but Players’ll respawn at their bodies iffin they get back quick-like. Bury’m, though, and that ol’ corpse vanishes lickity-split.”

Worked for Shin. Trash like Leathers didn’t deserve to be sent off with dignity, gently diffusing into radiant blue as they rejoined the life force of the world. If burying them like the turds they were was also the smarter play? Bonus.

Momo was still a bit concerned. “He’s not actually dead though, right? He could still come back?”

“Eheh, well~” Moots rubbed at his injured shoulder with a look of dark humor. “Iffin he tries, he’ll have a dang ol’ time of it. He’s a Red Player now, an’ Red Players’re Attack on Sight t’every guard an’ mercenary ‘cross the whole world. He’d hafta fight or sneak his way through…” Moots took a quick tally on his fingers, “Five major cities to wander ‘twixt here an’ yon. Tall order fer a tussle, and that rascal didn’t strike Ol’ Moots as much of a hand fer subtlety.”

Right. So concerns about a vengeful Player emerging in the night to massacre them all could be shelved for the moment. Convenient, especially given Moots’ assessment of Player stat scaling. Five points for every Level? At a baseline? Judging by Shin’s Status, he only got three.

Part of Shin regretted his newfound understanding of math, because it absolutely did not work out in their favor. Right now, the difference was relatively minor. Maybe he could stand a chance in a heads-on fight with an unexceptional Level Five Player. Maybe.

But by the time they were both Level Ten? Simple addition meant that that same unexceptional Player would be almost seven Levels higher than him from a numerical standpoint. And that disparity would just keep getting wider. Thirteen levels at Level Twenty. Thirty-three levels at Level Fifty.

Sixty-Seven at Level One Hundred.

Friggin’ percentages.

In the end, it all added up to something he’d already known, even as a fluff-brained mongrel: Stay Away from Players. They already had enough problems in their little zone. Shin needed to solve the troubles at his doorstep before he let himself worry about the calamities on the other side of the world. For now, he needed to get a handle on his own situation.

It seemed as though his Physical Stats had been left mostly untouched, the bulk of his points fleshing out his Mental Stats. He was a ‘Schemer’ apparently; was that not a combat-type class? “Gero, which class did you get?”

Gero puffed out her chest, clearly pleased with herself. “Brute. Literally everything on my Status is about bashing things.”

Shin let out an impressed whistle. Clearly he’d been a fool to worry about combat options while Gero was around. “And here I thought there was no way for you to get better at bashing things.”

“Oh, I’ll show…” She trailed off, a thought flickering behind her eyes. “Wait, the stick!” She frantically spun on her heels, searching high and low for the big stick and pointy rock that had already served her so well. Despair briefly crossed her face, the very real possibility that her prized possession had been destroyed by the explosion or resultant fire impossible to ignore. Then she spotted something at the edge of the camp, and couldn’t hold back a gasp.

The big stick with a pointy rock on it had been impressive before, especially when Gert was swinging it about in massive windmill blows. But that was a weapon for a Gert. What was needed now was a weapon for a Gero. And her transformation had not left that necessity unfulfilled. The weapon had been reborn as an enormous rod of solid wood, wrapped in leather for a grip at one end and studded with roughly hewn stone up and down the other, a tool whose singular purpose was making a mockery of the structural soundness of anything it was applied to.

Gero lifted the club reverently, as gentle as one might hold a newborn baby, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. “It’s…”–she sniffed back a tear–“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

Shin noticed for the first time that the bow he’d commandeered from Leathers had changed as well, though not as thoroughly as Gero’s weapon. It was a bit rougher, made of wood and sinew laminated with some sort of horn, and curved almost into a ‘C’ while unstrung. The kobold slung the bow over his back, not quite as ecstatic as Gero but pleased all the same. At least with this, along with his Ranged Expertise, he wouldn’t be useless in a fight.

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“Well I didn’t get anything!” Momo huffed, her oversized sleeved flapping as she folded her arms. “Speaker is a stupid class.”

Speaker? That was even more esoteric than Schemer. “What are your Class Features?”

Momo glanced back at her Status Screen. “I only have one. ‘Channel’? But it doesn’t even say what that does.”

"Did y'click on it?" Moots chimed in helpfully. “Y'have t'click on it, sometimes.”

“Oh.” Momo tapped her finger in the air, flushing slightly. “I didn’t know…right, okay.” She cleared her throat and began to read aloud. “‘Drawing upon the divine power of your God, you are able to cast’–wait what?!”

Gero was just as shocked. “Momo! You can cast spells! You’re magic!”

Momo turned to stare wide-eyed at Shin. “I’m magic?”

Shin blinked. What were the chances of hitting a caster class with just three promoted kobolds? “Um, supernatural I think.”

“I’m supernatural?! Speaker is the best!” She clicked something else on her Screen, bubbling with excitement at what she saw. “Omigod I have so many spells to pick this is amaaazing~!”

Shin buried himself into his own Status Screen, hoping to hide his deep envy. He wanted to pick spells from a big list so bad. Oh well, chin up and tail untucked. His own Class Features still needed a bit more exploration.

———————

Leadership: Whether due to experience, guile, or just personal magnitude, it’s you that all eyes turn to when battle is begun. Your very presence bolsters your allies, granting continuous bonuses based on your qualities as a leader.

* Inspiring: Allies gain a 15% boost to Experience gained

* Bold: Allies deal increased damage, based on the Schemer’s Intelligence or Presence modifier

* Careful: If up to one source would cause an ally to take increased damage, they take flat damage instead

A Certain Low Cunning: You were born in the trash heap, not the tactics room, and no one would ever mistake you for some grand strategist. But when everything is on the line, and the only strategy that matters is “Survive”, trash will often stand tall while tactics fall flat.

Your Intelligence Modifier is increased by your Presence or Wisdom Modifier, whichever is higher. In addition, whenever you would gain Advantage you may choose to grant an opponent Disadvantage instead

Opportunism: They say that a hero never kicks a foe while they’re down. You say that a winner never lets a foe get back up again. You’ve learned that your enemies will defeat themselves, if you let them, and you’re all too happy to oblige.

Whenever an opponent gains Disadvantage, you gain access to a contextual suite of reactions and effects. The strength of these effects scale with your level and three Mental Stats, opposed by your target’s level, Mental Stats and mental state.

———————

Shin’s tail had begun to wag before he was even halfway through his Features. Sure, he could have done without being referred to as ‘trash’ quite so often, but on the whole this was ideal. So he was some sort of battlefield support class? Boosting his allies, crafting inventive strategies, outsmarting his increasingly infuriated foes at every turn?

Yes. That would work. That would work just fine.

Gero must have noticed Shin’s obvious excitement. “What’s your class, Shin?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.” He so hard to play it cool. “Schemer. It’s basically a buffs and debuffs type class.”

Moots interjected. “Like a bard?”

For whatever reason, the comparison annoyed Shin deeply. “No. Not like a bard.”

“No? No singin’?”

“Precisely zero singing.”

“Well, Mr Schemer,” Gero’s eyes sparkled impishly as she leaned in, “How similar are you to a bard who doesn’t sing?”

Shin stared at Gero for a long moment. “...A little.”

“Aw, that's alright.” She threw an arm around Shin’s shoulders, favoring him with a mischievous grin. “Given some time and practice, we’ll have you singing before you know it. And then maybe, maybe, you’ll be almost as good as a bard.” She reached in, giving Shin a boop on the nose. “Almost.”

This would not work, and was not fine. Maybe he should have just let the pack die after all.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So are you sure we can’t get any more experience from your quest, Moots? We’re back to Level Five again, you know.”

Moots shook his head, finishing the readjustments on his repaired tent. When Shin had suggested that they help clean up the destroyed camp, it had mostly been a ploy to escape Gero’s relentless teasing. But he had to admit it felt good to see Moots’ little home restored to even its admittedly pathetic original state.

And it hadn’t worked anyway. Gero wouldn’t stop humming snatches of songs to him. This was a thing now.

“Nah, I can see it on y’all.” Moots stepped back, giving his tent a final once over before facing the three kobolds. “Ol' Moots’s quest won’t do y’all a lick o’ good no more.”

“And there isn’t another source of easy experience in the zone, right?”

“Y'got it figgered. Y'all'll probably need to dip yer toes in the next zone over. Er, claws. Feet. Paws. Whatever. Should be 'bout the right level."

That perked Shin’s ears right up. “We can’t leave the zone, though?”

Moots rubbed distractedly at his stomach. “Ehh? Sure y’all can. Mebbe y’all couldn’t when we first got acquainted, but anyone what’s Level Five can scoot past the barrier. Go hunt some boars!”

Shin shared a look with Gero and Momo. He’d figured that they would head back to the cave as soon as they were done here, but the Full Moon wasn’t for another several days. And honestly, Shin was by no means certain three Level Five kobolds would be enough. “What do you guys think? Do we go for it?”

Gero nodded decisively. “I say yes. I don’t know what boars are, but I want to bash one very badly.”

“I vote yes as well!” Momo threw her arms up into the air, giggling as her sleeves dangled down into her face. “I cast the divine spell ‘Yes’! Woosh!”

The three kobolds chattered excitedly, all smiles and wags over what would be in store for them next. Moots’ smile, however, had faded somewhat, the old man unable to hold back a sigh. “Well…good. That’s great. Good on y’all pups.”

Shin tilted his head curiously. “What’s wrong?”

Moots offered a tremulous smile. "Oh, now, don't let ol' Moots ruin the fun. I been hungry a'fore, and I kin suffer it again. An' ol' Moots is sure grateful for all them fruits y'all brought him, an’ fer standin’ with him when there weren’t none else what would. Sure he's grateful! Grateful t’ve known y’all pups at all. They's few can say they helped make a new people be born, even if it was jus' a little!" He sniffled through his smile, eyes beginning to glisten. “Y’all jus’ go on t’yer next big step, and jus’ know what wherever y’all are Ol’ Moots’ll be smiling on the thought o’ ye!”

The old man snuffled again, drawing a sympathetic noise from Momo. The little kobold threw her arms around Moots, hugging him tightly. “Oh, don’t be sad, Moots! We’ll leave you a bunch of fruit before we leave!”

Gero nodded, clapping a hand to the man’s shoulder. “And boar had better be tasty. Because when we come back? You’re gonna have to eat a lot of it.”

The tears flowed freely down Ol’ Moots’ cheek by this point. “Oh, y'all pups're better pals to Ol' Moots than any kith or kin he ever did have. He'll be yer boon companion for all his days, gul' dangit!"

Shin didn’t want to ruin the moment, but there was an issue he’d been avoiding ever since they’d gained the ability to freely communicate with Moots. If he didn’t bring it up now, he never would. “Moots, you should know that when we come back? It’ll be with a purpose. There’s no future for us in this zone as long as it’s occupied by the outpost and the people who guard it. When we come back, it’s going to be Kill or Be Killed.” He leaned in, stone serious. “Are you alright with that?”

Moots mulled this revelation over for a long moment, long enough to give Shin a hint of worry. But then, at length, he offered an extravagant shrug. “Ehhh, never been too keen on them guards anyhow. I been takin’ them booze every week since they appeared, but’ve they ever given me a crust of bread? Naw. A spare blanket? Naw. A friendly word? Heckfire naw. Ol’ Moots’s been starving at his camp for months, and who came t’give him food? Ol’ Moots was starin’ death in the face, an’ who stared it down ‘longside him? It sure weren’t them guards, no sir. No sir.”

The old man tapped a finger to the side of his bright red nose, offering the kobolds a wink. “Ol’ Moots may not know much, but he sure’n knows who was good t’him when the chips were down.”

Shin let himself grin without reserve at that. It was settled, then. They would press on into unknown territory, going where no mongrel had ever been before, and then return to confront their ultimate destiny.

He felt a little bad for the boars, though. They had no idea what they were in for.