Jumping into action, I sit up and crawl over to kneel beside Lemmin. Looking down at him I can see that his skin has continued to tighten further with the sizzling sound continuing to fill the air. I could visibly see some of the pale skin starting to web out from the initial impact on his face.
He must have seen the look on my face as he said, “Don’t worry mate, it’s just a flesh wound.” For some reason, he starts laughing at that and it sounds hoarse and seems to irritate his wound as he curses, “Ashen shit dogs.”
I pull out the bit of pork from my bag that I was keeping for myself and offer it to Lemmin. “This will give you some hit points back. I don’t know what’s going on with your eye but all I can think is trying to use my skill to maybe boost you up somehow. Until then Priss, just try to keep his eye clean and let that water flow away from his face onto the ground.” The small curt nod she gave over from where she stood told me everything I needed to know. Lil Mama was well on her way to becoming a big mama.
As she goes to do her thing I begin looking around for anything edible that I could find. Looking out into the wilderness, I curse at the lack of my glowing herbology skill showing up for anything other than the cornfield to one side. As I walk towards the swamp side I trip over one of the sloths and sigh. My lip curled up to mirror my feeling of ‘Do not want’ that was moistening up my being.
“Smeed, any suggestions you can send my way on sloths being eaten would be greatly appreciated.” As I wait for his answer I begin poking at its hide with my knife.
“Dev, we need something faster than that.” I looked over to where Lemmin’s legs were hitting the floor repeatedly as he struggled to hold in the pain he was feeling.
“Damnit,” comes out of my mouth as I look back over at the corn. Vegetarian it is.
Grabbing two of the stalks in my hand I move back over to where the siblings lay together. I quickly look over the plant in front of me and figure out what might be usable within the stalk, vines, and peppercorns of the plant. Surprisingly enough, it looked like each might offer their flavors to anything I created.
“May I have the pan for a few minutes, I need to try something. I’ll try to give you water as much as I can,” I try to get out.
“He’s my flock, I will tend to him,” were the solemn words that came out of her mouth as a water bottle was produced from somewhere on her being.
There was a smile that tried to break Lemmin’s face, it was unfortunately followed by the sharp intake of breath soon after. I gave him a solemn nod of my head that I hoped instilled in him some kind of comfort.
Turning from them I place Smeed down and run towards the swamp to grab some of the dead kindling found there along with any more substantial bits I could find. Setting them up I place Smeed on top and he works his magic as I think of my approach to all this. First was cooking the corn I guess to soften. I sent over to Smeed for about a quarter cup of water to be added to the pot as I worked on taking off the red and green leaves that covered the peppercorn I was seeking.
The peppercorns revealed are small, plump, and gorgeous. I can’t help but plop one in my mouth to taste the flavor and it’s surprisingly somewhat bland. I’m grateful for how soft they seem and put the whole now-shucked ear of corn into the shallow bit of boiling water. I then worked the orange pods from the yellow vine that crawled up the stalk. A couple of the kernels are burst in the process and my nose begins to tingle from the spicy cloud of dust that was released. I shake my head and realize less than one would probably be more than enough.
I let the boil continue as I shake some of the bulb’s contents into the water in hopes of blanching some of its flavor into the corn itself. Letting it do its thing for a few minutes I look over to Lemmin and can see that he has calmed down some as his sister glides her hand through his hair.
She begins to hum a melody that I can’t quite place but seems to quiet the area around us. A wash of serenity flows across me as I can feel a change in my breathing as a few much-needed breaths are taken. Lemmin’s grunt brings me back to the job at hand and I go back into action mode. Hoping that at least some of that intense spice was introduced to the corn I asked Smeed to raise his heat some and I turned the ear to make sure the last of the liquid was infused into each side.
The extra heat quickly evaporates the water and I go about toasting each part of the corn letting them char some. I look back off into the swamp again as if hoping for some magical veggie to pop up on my hud. Moving my sight to the field side doesn’t yield anything better and I sigh. Patting my person I come across the remains of the corn cake from earlier.
Looking between the pan and the cake I shrug before crumbling up the sweet and savory cake and spreading it over the surface slowly, using the pan the sear in each coating of the cake as I turned the ear in the pan. The process made the whole ear sheen somewhat when I was done and I nodded at my work.
The self-admiration didn’t last for too long as I felt my body begin to walk over to kneel by the two Proppas on autopilot. “I wish I could cool this off some but,” I present Smeed to the two of them.
Priss’ hand reaches into the pan and grabs the corn in her small fist. “It’s cool ‘nuff. Ma’ always says, if ya can’t stand the heat, you’re probably a man.”
I know better than to even reply to little Proppa’s sage advice and watch as her hand doesn’t flinch from the no doubt extremely hot sugar that was seared onto the corn’s surface from the cake. She does blow it some before offering it to Lemmin.
His first bite is a slow and somewhat laborious one. The second came quicker and was significantly more deliberate. His hands replaced Priss’ for the third and fourth bites, twisting the cobb in his hand as he did so. It takes between three and five more bites before the whole thing is gone, core all all. His body feels the need to champion his impressive gastral feat with a thunderous belch.
“What in the budding hell was that?” Lemmin says between shoving his fingers in his mouth to lick them clean. “Seriously mate, that right class.” The sucking sound with each successive finger borders on the obscene. “What the hell, my face ‘as gone all tingly.” Lemmin takes his freshly cleaned fingers and softly pats at the edges of the wound.
Leaning in I look at Lemmin’s face and can see that some of the skin was now beginning to show a paler that more closely matched his normal skin tone. After examining the wound I say, “My cooking sometimes has positive effects. It’s why I went to grab what I could. This seems to be mending you at least some.” As a reply, Lemmin pulls his hands away on his own.
“What’d you put in my brother’s food?” Priss was by my side with her small knife held tightly in her fist.
“Nothing, seriously. It’s a skill, I swear.” Realizing my log might have what I need I pull it up.
_________________________
You begin cooking peppercorn and pepperbulbs.
You add corn cake to peppercorn and pepperbulbs.
You have successfully created queen’s cob (Superior)
You gain 25 xp.
Party member Lemmin consumes queen’s cob (Superior) and gains 40 hp.
_________________________
Seeing that Priss was already back to tending her brother I sent over to Smeed, “Hey, wouldn’t Lemmin already know the effects of the corn on his screen?”
“We attempted allowing them a bit more autonomy like that but most of our early AI agents just refused to accept their world once they had access to the screen. It was almost like they immediately knew the strings behind their world and it broke any sense of realism we were hoping for. Many simply stopped doing anything while others attempted to find ways into the system, kinda like you did.” I can feel that last bit coated in his judgment.
“Interesting,” I look over to where the siblings talked and Lemmin begins to look a bit more lively. “But wait, they said they had skills. How would they know that?”
“They might not be as accepting of UI-based systems, but there’s something about a voice in your head telling you something that tends to stick with you. So, where you can see a list of your skills as you level. They hear them, and thankfully since they don't have that pesky meat storage to deal with, they hear once and simply know from that point on what they’re capable of.”
While that brought up questions of whether everyone in this world was super intelligent I instead moved back over to the siblings and looked closer at Lemmin’s eye. While he was not fully healed, I could tell that he was on the mend. “How are you doing?” I asked.
“Thanks to you mate, I’m getting there.” Looking over at Priss he looks back over to me, “Sorry, she’s a bit protective.”
“It wouldn’t be proppa to not stand by a Proppa. He’s got two eyes anyways.” She punches his arm with her tiny fist before fully enveloping it with her arms with her eyes clenched tightly.
“Seriously though, that food, I ain’t never had anything like that.” Lemmin continues.
“Thank you, it’s one of my cooking-related skills. I’ve seen it heal before and looks to be working on your eye some.”
Offering his hand up to me, I shake it smiling back down at him and he smoothly corrects the handshake and changes it to us grasping each other’s forearms. “Well shite, if that’s the type of magic you’re packing then maybe being a scullery maid ain't half bad a class.”
I ignore his comment and smile at him, “It’s honestly growing on me.” Smeed is twirling in my hands unconsciously as we talk. Realizing the sudden exhaustion I was feeling I leaned back next to Lemmin. “I think I’m going to take a load off for a minute.”
“Mate, do whatever ya have to. Your arms were an ashen blur with the attacks you were giving that tosser.” I can feel his eyes judging me as he looks me up and down. “A bloke your size doesn’t seem like he’d have that kind of speed.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, looking down at my body.
“It means you’re deceptively quick is all mate. No reason to get your knickers all in a twist. Just relax like you said. Ya ashen deserves it for sure.” He replies letting his shoulders visibly fall.
Following his lead I feel my shoulders slump as I finally take a few breaths for myself. The leveling-up ding is almost deafening. Opening up my eyes I pull up my screen and take a look at my character sheet.
_________________________
Character: Dev
Race: Human
Class: Runic Cook Level 3
Might: 10
Agility: 10
Grit: 10
Magic: 10
Allure: 10
Unspent MAGMA Pts: 3
HP: 100
MP: 100
Armor: Farmhand Set (+1 phys Def)
_________________________
Updated Skill Descriptions
Dual Wield Acolyte (Passive): You have become adept at wielding a weapon in each hand. Melee attacks have +2 to dmg when dual-wielding.
Culinary Herbology II (Passive): Usable cooking ingredients are now named and highlighted with short descriptions in the environment (Can be customized).
Fast Hands II (Passive): Along with a quicker slicing ability, consecutive attacks on a single enemy will result in an increased chance of critical damage. +1% per 3 strikes.
Anatomy Acolyte (Skill): Your ability to understand and capitalize on anatomical weaknesses in enemies will now assist you in targeted ranged attacks. 5 MP/attack.
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Comfort Food II (Magic): Your skill has increased to where your creations now may take on your intended effects as you are making them. 2 MP/Sec for infusion.
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Smeed seems to be trying to head off my possible grumblings with his usual upbeat interpretation of my leveled-up skills as he says, “You have magic! ”
That was way more enthusiastic than I was picturing, “Calm down Smeed, it doesn't even have a direct effect, just a probability of something being infused. What does my ‘intended effects’ even mean? I’m glad I have my focused attack ability so that should help a ton. Between that, the dual wield stuff, and everything else? I should be just fine.”
“Oh, good. May I suggest you also allocate your MAGMA points? I can explain thresholds to you so you can properly choose how to assign them.” Smeed sends to me just as I was mentally seeing if I could get all of them assigned to Magic. As I do so another bit of text highlights on my screen. Smeed continues, “Or you could do that.”
_________________________
You have assigned 3 points to Magic.
You now have 13 points in Magic.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////
You have hit a new Arcane threshold!
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
Mana costs are now 5% less and Mana regeneration is increased by 1/sec.
Please choose which spell to add to your skills. Each costs 20 MP and causes 2 magical dmg/sec time spent within their spell effect.
Nimbus Bolt: Static buildup causes a sparking cloud in a 5’ area within your vision. Lasts 5 secs.
Cyclonic Burst: Swirling winds are created in a 10’ area around you. Lasts 5 secs.
_________________________
A grin as wide as the Grinch’s begins to curl its way across my face as the sweet feeling of choice grips my gaming heart. Smeed decides to cut into my thoughts as I’m already feeling myself drawn to the Nimbus spell.
“As I was attempting to say. You hit thresholds at 11 points in any of your MAGMA stats. I was about to suggest you split your allocation between any of the ones you feel would benefit your playstyle most.” Smeed said in a totally not condescending way.
“While the information is a bit late to help me now, I’m sure that’s my fault. Now, any thoughts on these?” I reply looking between the two spells I get to choose between.
“Both are basic spells but aren’t bad overall. You’ve already influenced the system so far so I’d suggest going with your gut feeling as the idiom goes.” Smeed replies.
It takes a few seconds to sink in but I realize Smeed has a point and go against my initial thought and choose Cyclonic Burst. “I’ll be honest Smeed, things just got a little more fun for me. As you said, it’s already been a ride, who knows where things will go from here.”
“Hey mate, you alright?” Lemmin calls over from where he sat beside me.
“What, yes are you alright?” I ask in return.
“I’ve called your name a few times as you’ve stared off like one of those dogs knocked your skull or somethin’.” He replies, making me shake my head. I need to stop letting Smeed make me talk to him.
“You don’t mean that,” Smeed replies.
“Smeed, the mind reading is annoying.” I look over at Lemmin who’s staring at me again.
“There goes that look again. I swear, you ashen travelers.” He begins to stand up and look back and forth between the northern part of the field and back toward the home. “Whatcha think, we head back towards the farm or see if there’s any more of these bastards about?” His kick at the alpha sloth has it flipping twice towards the side of the path.
“Does anyone eat those?” I ask, hoping to find something to do with that much, seemingly, cookable meat.
“I have never preferred eating these dogs but if you’re in a pinch and ain’t afraid of a bit of a chew to your meat, these couldn’t hurt you I guess.” He blinks his bad eye a few times and winces a bit less than he had before. “I’m as good as I’m probably gonna get, no need to go playing at a kitchen drudge again.”
Letting my emotions take control, I reply “See, you’re calling me names. We’ll see if I’ll let you try any of my food again.”
“If you want to go eating on soil slop, you have your way.” He says switching his weight from one leg to the other. “But I’ve had to eat those tough bastards during the worst of winters and I’d not suggest it to anyone. You’re likely to break a tooth as you tire your jaw gnawing on prairie meat.” With that, he seems to return his attention to Priss who was admonishing him whenever he seems to wince from his struggles.
“If I might add Dev, I’d say it’s worth a try if you have anything pickling in your head. I’m excited to see what leveling it could lead to.” Smeed says with excitement. “Would you like to see my updated skills?”
“Wait, you leveled and didn’t tell me? Of course, I do.” I look up at my screen excited for the update. It doesn’t disappoint.
_________________________
Character: Smeed
Race: Sentient Construct
Class: Runic Weapon Level 3
Might: 5
Agility: 1
Grit: 100
Magic: 5
Allure: 20
HP: 1000
MP: 50
Damage (Physical):
Armor: Iron Clad +100
New Skills:
Full Absorption ∞
Main Pan ∞
Quick Snack
Babbling Brook ∞
Kinetic Strike I
Cinder Blast
_________________________
Updated Skill Descriptions
Full Absorption (Passive): You may now taste items within your form if you choose to absorb them. Expelling them when you choose.
Main Pan (Passive): Your form can now be changed to any cookware shape that can be up to twice your current weight. The current material cannot be changed.
Quick Snack (Skill): When needed, you can magically infuse items being cooked within your form. An investment of 15 MP will lower the process by half the normal process.
Babbling Brook (Passive): Water consumed from your water spell now has additional nutrients for all those who partake in your refreshments.
Kinetic Strike (Passive/Skill): Kinetic force stored and released at a time of your choice. Can be used for equivalent propulsion or 3-5 additional damage phys on attacks.
Cinder Blast (Spell): Create a burst of flame throughout your surface for 10-15 pts of additional magical damage. Each burst costs 7 MP.
_________________________
“I should be speechless but I know better at this point. You are one badass pan. I’d almost think you were cheating if I knew you just didn’t have it in you.” Sitting there amazed I continue looking at his list of new skills.
“Honestly Dev, I am a bit thankful for this experience so far. While I do not cherish the banging about you make me do, I do enjoy just being able to. I’m not sure how to put it. Perhaps, play? Yes, I enjoy finally being able to just play like this.” Smeed says with his voice full of joy again.
“You’re doing a damn good job so far to be honest.” I mentally reply while giving him a twirl. “Well even if I have to guide you from time to time.”
“Guide me?” Suddenly Smeed is spinning in my hand in the same motion I had done and I have to use both my hands to catch him.
Looking over at the siblings and try to give my best deprecating grin as I barely catch it before it hits the ground. “Butter fingers.”
“Butta? You brought butta way out here?” Lemmin gives a long look at my midsection before shaking his head, “Yeah I can see where it’s going. Go at it, mate.”
“No, it’s saying.” Before I get any caught up. “We should probably get back towards the farm I reckon.”
“You takin’ the piss?” Lemmin replies standing up to his full height.
“What? What did I say?” I reply trying to figure out what I did to piss him off.
He lowers his face, showing off the still-injured flesh around his eye. It looks menacing but it all changes as a big smile breaks his stern face. “Just messin' with ya mate. But I know you travelers use that reckon shite to mock us farm folk. No need for that bollocks.” He offers his arm. “We’s family at this point.”
“Til he gives us a reason to change that fact,” Priss calls from between his legs. To emphasize her point the small dagger is bounced from hand to hand before it disappears back into her clothing. It’s gotta be a skill, or just practice? How does a girl her age get that much practice?
Standing up I turn and look towards the alpha sloth’s body and realize it was too heavy to haul all that way back. I instead look at the other animals in the clearing, finally picking out the smallest one.
“Dammit man you really shouldn’t go to all that effort. I know you’re a class cook and all but these will take an ashen miracle or better yet a curse to even get close to edible.” Lemmin said as he loomed over me.
“Well, a great man once said, ‘It always seems impossible until it’s done.’ and I believe that’s true,” I said recalling a quote from a paper I wrote on Nelson Mandela.
“Whoever said that hadn’t tasted one of these bastards.” In one smooth motion, the animal is thrown over his shoulder as Priss climbs up his body onto the other shoulder. He somehow seems just at home with all that extra weight.
“Wow, thank you. You don’t have to do that Lemmin.” I say looking up at him.
“Least I can do for your help with all the dogs. Though, it’d be a great help if you could drop off all them in the bog.” Lemmin says with a smile.
Looking at the other bodies I nod my head knowing that he probably had the rougher of the two jobs. Expecting Lemmin to wait for me I look up to where he had already started walking. “Wait for me!.”
He doesn’t look back as he continues making his way in the direction of the farm. “You could have gotten one in the bog already mate. I got an eye to get mended and a sister to take care of.” Priss brandishes her dagger at me for some reason over her brother’s shoulder towards me with a grin.
Grumbling to myself I start tossing them into the bog and he’s right about the task going quickly. It’s easy to forget how much strength I now have just by my elevated strength. I even grin as I use my power throw on the last two making them fly a few dozen feet off into the bog each time.
Rather than linger too long I began running back towards the farm and quickly caught up to the siblings who were singing what sounded like a drinking song.
“Ashes fall on the snow’s first dust, As our King has gone to rust. Watch the embers blight the sky, Soon her light will lift us high.” They sang together.
Priss continued along with her brother, beginning to slap a beat on the skin of the sloth on his shoulder. “Lift us high, she’ll lift us high. Hethar’s love be the guiding light.” The song seems to break out with Priss singing alone making a beat on the body of the sloth with a slap slap sound.
“High, high, high. Mother guides us high.” As she sees me walk up next to them she stops and looks down.
“Sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your hymns,” I reply, smiling up at her.
“Hymns, what you on about?” She replies from Lemmin’s shoulder.
“The song you were singing, it sounded like something I’ve heard before is all,” I reply to cover myself.
“You didn’t hear nothin'.” She answers before looking towards where we are walking.
“Don’t mind her none. She doesn't like the voice she was blessed with. Do ya Prissibel?” Lemmin calls up to his sister in a mocking tone.
“If you’re looking for your other eye to match the prairie dog spit one, keep messin’ with me.” Her knife is produced and is flipped in the air to be caught by the same small hand that puts it away immediately.
“Mama’s little songbird,” Lemmin says just before Priss’ hand slaps against his head. “Prissibel Pragma Proppa, do that one more time and you’re walking the rest of the way.”
She flicks his ear and does a flip off his back that would have impressed any pro wrestling scout. She lands in a superhero pose that’s just as impressive as the flip before looking up at us both. “Sod off the both of you.” She darts towards me to kick me in my shin before doing the same to Lemmin and running off before us towards the farm.
“What did I do?” I call out to her form that is quickly putting distance between us. Looking up at Lemmin, I ask, “ I meant no harm, it was just a solemn song that reminded me of ones I heard growing up. What was the song about?”
Clearing his throat, Lemmin laughs, “It’s just an old tale of Esslem’s first Queen. Light the way.” His follow-up of the phrasing seemed almost robotic, or rather maybe more like a habit.
“What did she do exactly? What did that rust part mean?” I ask, trying to remember the parts of the lyrics I heard.
“Mate, they’re just lyrics to an old story. Ain’t in the mood for no history lesson.” He spits a red glob of saliva out into the bog on our side. “Not getting or giving them.”
“Sorry just curious.” I try to kick a rock and almost trip in the process. Catching myself I get back lock step with Lemmin.
The rest of the walk to the farm is quiet on my and Lemmin’s fronts. Unfortunately, Smeed had caught the spirit as he was continuing to alternate between Priss’ lyrics and his made-up ones.
“High high high, Mother guides us high. Low low low, Devin’s way too slow,” comes from Smeed as I carry him at my side.
“Enough with the gospel music.” I sent over to Smeed.
“I’d consider this mournful folk music.” He clears his throat before continuing to sing, “I’m gonna lay down my pan and knife, down by the counter side, down by the counter side, down by the counter side. I’m gonna…”
Cutting him off, “Damnit Smeed, enough already, we’re almost to the farm anyway.
“How rude, I was just going with Miss Prissibel’s music,” was Smeed’s reply.
“I’ll meet you at the showers,” Lemmin called over to me with a grunt as he walked off as soon as we hit the main compound.
“Yeap, see you at the,” was all I got out as a large fist filled my vision as it connected with my face/jaw/a little bit of everything. My feet are thrown up in the air as I’m tossed back for what felt like at least ten feet.
Squinting my eyes I look up trying to see the culprit and almost look up the long gown worn by the Proppa Matriarch. Trying to back up from her and the view her leg purposefully moves towards my chest and pushes me back down onto the dust. Her other arm reaches towards Lemmin, who seemed to have walked over during my flight and pulls him over to her by the side of his collar.
Peering into the wound on his face she sucks in her teeth multiple times. “Rat bastards, all of them.”
“We killed them ma, don't you worry.” Lemmin sputtered from where he stood.
Even though she stood a good foot shorter than her son her presence was that of someone who easily dwarfed his size and strength. “At what cost Lem, at what cost.” Her hand glides across his cheek and her voice softens, “My dear boy. You know what they can do.”
“May I get up Miss Proppa.” I call up from where I lay.
“No! This is your fault. We would not have been out there had it not been for you! Or at least had someone with more ability. Even myself.” Each word seems to be followed with a stomp by her substantial bare foot.
“Please,” I try to reply as I cough up the dust that is now being tossed up from her stomping. I was halfway tempted to see if I was being injured by her tantrum.
Putting his hand on her shoulder Lemmin speaks to his mom, “He saved me, I don’t know what Priss said. But I’m serious, he did nothin’ that I wouldn’t have done. If anything I was grateful he thought so quickly.” Lemmin winced as he unconsciously touched the tender skin around his eye.
“Priss only told me you were hurt and I know how those travelers are.” The sneer she gives me shakes me to my soul. Something told me that a lack of a weapon would not hold back this woman from devastating me.
“Mama, he made food that helped me. He ain’t like most of them arseholes.” He pleaded to Mama.
Mama Proppa opens her mouth as if to speak before looking down at me. Her foot first lessens its pressure before fully drawing off of me. Lemmin offers me a meaty hand that easily pulls me up onto my feet as his frown turns to a slight smile. The slap on the back which was probably meant as reassurance, had me stumbling a foot to get my balance.
“I need to hear the full story,” she looked me up and down in a way that made me uncomfortable. “But for now, what you got planned for that gob shite of a carcass?” Mama asks, pointing at the Prarie Dog's body.