Chapter 7

“What about these three?” Kopius asked, using the chalk the underline Herbalist, Scout and Spy. Oh-jin took on a contemplative demeanor making a few whirling motions with his hand, obviously having an internal discussion. Cici had found his own comfort level, making soft sleeping sounds in the chair. Kopius couldn't tell if the big man was bored or just tired.

“Those work well together,” Oh-jin agreed after the short pause. “Spy and Scout, I think we both agree, will be most valuable.”

“Do we know what comes with those?” Kopius asked. “You said Merchant came with something. Some kind of tongue thingy–thing.”

“Silver Tongue,” Oh-jin inserted.

“Yeah, that one,” Kopius said with a point of his finger. “Do these two have anything?”

“Yes, yes,” Oh-jin replied, returning his nose to the book in his hand. “If you select Spy, you will receive the Tread Lightly Skill as well as the Lockpicking{CHANGE} Skill. With Scout, you would receive a plus one to Perception and Stability, as well as the Skill .”

“Is Tread Lightly a Stealth Skill?” Kopius asked with some eagerness.

“Not exactly,” the old man with a shake of his head. “It is similar though. Where Stealth grants a measure of both visual and audible camouflage, Tread Lightly only deals in suppressing sound.”

“I can be seen but not heard?” Kopius inquired, mentally batting away a memory of the time Cory had randomly and briefly courted an Ambassador's daughter. She was a bit demanding–’spoiled’ is applicable here–and for one reason or another thought Cory made a nice trophy. He may have only said ten words that night…

“Precisely.” Oh-jin said, helping to further break Kopius from the distant thought.

“I see,” Kopius replied. “But I have to complete the challenges first before I get any of that, right?”

“No.”

“No?”

Oh-jin shook his head, confirming the negative.

“Then what?” Kopius said, holding his frustration in check. His arms did slightly jerk in a WFT fashion but had settled quickly.

“You receive them all!” Oh-jin scolded. “How is this not clear? You receive the base value of the Practices you choose. If you wish for those Skills to grow stronger or be more versatile, you will have to put in the work that is required!”

Cici jolted in his chair, opened and closed his eyes a few times attempting to get them to focus before sitting up straight in his chair. “What did I miss?” Cici said barely audibly enough to be understood.

“I am being yelled at for some reason,” Kopius answered first, using both hands to point at Oh-jin.

“We are choosing Non-Combatives at the present,” Oh-jin added as though no shouting had occurred.

“Still, eh?” Cici mumbled.

“Still,” Oh-jin replied with a sympathetic nod and shrug, like some helicopter parent walking their child through a “strenuous” daily chore.

“I see,” Cici cleared his throat. “Might I have myself a snack there, Oh-jin?”

“Of course, my boy! Two doors down to the right when you exit.”

Cici bowed his thanks with a nod, rose from his sleeping arrangement and left without another word. Oh-jin watched the big man leave and once he was gone, picked up right where he had left off. “Yes, you receive the boons for each; the one Combative, the three Non’s. You should keep in mind that a level 1 Lockpick{CHANGE} can hardly crack a simple knob lock securing the door to a latrine. If you are scheming for some way to loot the procedure, I can assure you it has been tested and tried!”

“Hold up,” Kopius interrupted. “I’m not trying to work the system man! I’m just trying to clarify, you know, to make good decisions. And if you’re getting all pissy because whatever I am asking is in the books I haven’t read yet, well, you already know I haven’t read them. So getting your panties all bunched up every time you are reminded helps no one! I will try to read them before I come back next time–okay?”

“It is only to your benefit my boy,” Oh-jin replied in a firm but caring fashion.

“Okay,” Kopius fumed, letting the frustration go with the word.

“What are panties?” Oh-jin eventually asked.

“Wha–oh, um, womens underwear,” Kopius chuckled.

“But I am not wearing anything or the sort?”

“If you were wearing them they would be bunched and you would be in a bad mood.” Kopius tried to explain. Oh-jin’s head slowly moved back and forth, clearly trying to understand the statement but–not. “Don’t worry, it's a saying from my place–my world. Earth.”

“Earth seems to have many of these, um, euphemisms.”

“That we do.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“It is no wonder that your Earth is still using Common.”

“Why’s that now?”

“Not for us to stray from our current project, but Common is a rudimentary language. It is basic; a step up from Goblin speak or Orc speak, but a far shout from, say: Astral, Elvish or even Jinovian. Common is simple to understand and distribute, lacking the elegance and complexity of higher languages.”

Kopius was a little shocked by the information. Oh-jin was insinuating that English, or more universally known as Common, was the Kindergarten level of spoken words. He brought to his mind love languages like French and Italian before thinking about how they had been derived from Latin. Kopius felt his face turn a bit sour as he followed the dots, realizing that Latin might have been a ‘higher language’ and the road to English was several steps backwards.

“Words are words though,” Oh-jin continued, oblivious to Kopius’s inner strife. “It is how they are used that matters–for the most part.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kopius exhaled, only slightly insulted. “To get back on track though; Herbalist, yay or nay?”

“You will not starve, at least not in the traditional sense.” Oh-jin began to lecture. “With this Skill you will be able to discern between the plants you can eat–and the one that will eat you.” The old man laughed, animated by his own humor. “Advanced levels will guide you to the many other characteristics of plants in order to concoct salves, potions and elixirs for healing, poisons and other useful functions or remedies. I am myself an Expert in the Skill.”

“Soooo,” Kopius let the ‘o’ hang for a moment,”Is that a yes or a no?”

“No,” Oh-jin finally answered. “There is a subtlety and patience needed to be a Herbalist.”

“Hmmm,” Kopius grunted, insulted this time.

“What else?” Oh-jin prodded. “What other than Herbalist?”

“Well,” Kopius fidgeted, “If I am not concerned about food or eating then I would go with–I don’t know–it’s a tossup between Craftsman and Outlaw.”

“Let us have a look at their boons,” Oh-jin said as he flipped the pages of the book in his hands. “For Craftsmen, you will receive a plus one in Akimbo and Accuracy, as well as the Skill, Measure Once. Outlaw will grant you a plus one to your Charisma and a Skill called Sleight of Hand. Before you ask; Measure Once deals in accurately judging distances and measurements without the use of tools. Sleight of Hand deals with casting speed, arming speed and reload speed for projectile weapons.”

“Arming speed?” Kopus asked with a half-raised hand.

“How quickly you can put a weapon in your hand.” Oh-jin answered and Kopius nodded. “Outlaw is enticing but too much of that lifestyle and you will be branded for it.”

“They burn it into my skin?!” Kopius asked with some alarm.

“No, no, no,” the old man waved his arms frantically. “Though that is effective, this is not so vulgar. Your profile will show the mark and anyone with a Peep Skill or the like will take notice.”

“Can the mark be removed?”

“The mark, yes. Memories though, well, that is a matter for the Psionics.”

“Fair enough.”

“Craftsman is a fine choice,” Oh-jin said, moving on. “Measure Once does not sound enticing, but given the proper application, it can be extremely useful. It also has many paths; metal, stone, wood, crystal, gems–intricate and mundane; massive and miniscule.”

Two things were running through the mind of Kopius; long ago he had excelled in shop class–wood and metal–when the electives were offered and–though Sleight of Hand was very alluring–he hadn’t enjoyed prison on Earth, so by extension he didn’t want to get that first hand knowledge on this medieval, wannabe dystopian rock called Metem either.

A tiny light bulb went off in his head. In what may have been a first in his adult life, he made an adult decision and chose manual labor over a smash and grab lifestyle.

“Okay,” Kopius finally said, “I think I’ve got it.” He used the bottom part of his shirt to erase the marks on the chalkboard. Halfway through his awkward swiping, Oh-jin reached up and pulled the lever, like he had done before, and the remaining marks poofed away. Kopius gave a harumph and wrote the following:

* Ranger

* Craftsman

* Spy

* Scout

The two looked at the board for a moment and then Oh-jin wiped off and switched Craftsman and Scout.

“Challenges are offered in the order you pick your Practices.” The old man explained. “With it ordered like this, you will complete the Scout challenges first before moving to Spy and then Craftsman.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Sucks, I can't complete them at the same time.”

“These aren’t tasks to get through!” Oh-jin spat. “These are learnings; guidance. Tangible knowledge in an intangible world! Be an expert in a few things instead of a novice in all. We have enough dullards as it is, be better than that!”

“Okay, okay,” Kopius said with raised, placating hands. “Fuck man. You need some fresh air or your meds or something?”

“Nothing of the sorts, my boy,” Oh-jin said in a giant exhale. “Long nights is all.”

The old man rubbed at his face and head like someone too tired to sleep. With the goggles permanently blocking the chemist's eyes, it made using that obvious ‘I am exhausted’ cue visible.

Kopius had no way of knowing what a proper night of sleep looked like to Oh-jin, but apparently he wasn’t getting it. A familiar sour pang of selfishness settled in his gut. That feeling that comes when you realize the world doesn't revolve around you. That, other people’s lives are not on pause until you re enter their frame. He had, per usual, only considered how things–life–had been affecting him; not anyone else.

“”Hey man,” Kopius said kindly, clearing his throat. He placed a gentle hand on the old man's shoulder. It dawned on Kopius that they were in Lexore’s space, going through Lexores books and Lexores notes; and that maybe this had something to do with it. Not that Cory could ever be accused of being a softy, Kopius supposed he could–at least–if only for a moment.

“You want to talk about him? Your friend, Lexore?” Oh-jin twitched at the sound of the name. The old man held his head up and sniffed in what sounded like a person fighting allergies or holding back tears.

“He was the best of us,” Oh-jin said with a slight crack in his voice. “I miss him.”

The old chemist cocked his head at an angle before reaching up and slightly lifting the bottom portion of his ever present goggles. A store of welled tears rushed down his cheeks and he used a thin white cloth to dab it all dry. He did this for both eyes until the drying was no longer needed. He wiped his nose twice, placed the tissue in a pocket and gave a brave smile. On instinct–because Kopius hadn’t learned empathy overnight–he opened his arms and offered Oh-jin a hug.

Not even the awkward pause before Oh-jin embraced him did Kopius himself feel, well, awkward. It was almost like doing the right thing felt, well, right. Though Kopius wasn’t ready to go and start handing out hugs to everyone he saw, he was going to take this as a win.

“Group hug!?” Cici exclaimed as finally returned to the room, his arms opened wide and ready to embrace. Kopius and Oh-jin unlatched and looked at the big man and then looked back at each other before laughing some of the pain away. They simultaneously waved Cici over and the three shared in a brief but much needed moment of emotional comradery.