“Medic!” John called out, “Sarah, get down here!!”
“But it’s muddy, bring the-”
“Get down here now.”
Sarah gulped, and scrambled down from her tower. It would take forever to dry her robes back out, and within moments they were soaked through. She’d only just gotten out of the rain, too, after healing one of the soldiers.
John was never like this, not with her. He was calm, kind, and understanding. Right now, though, she could tell she wasn't his priority, and a pang of ugly emotion ran through her even as she suppressed it.
There was work to do, and she didn’t even pause by John before making her way outside of the walls and to Kyla. “Out of Stamina. She needs rest, and that’s it.” Within seconds she’d moved on, making her way back to the gate to see to the injured soldier. A hand on her shoulder cut her walk short, and she jumped, whirling around and swinging with her staff.
George was easily able to dodge out of the way, and her follow-up froze when she realised who it was, and what he had in his arms.
“Please.” George choked out, lifting the bundle of black fur towards her. “You have to do something. He’s not waking up. Please.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed in on the large cat. With her Animal Empathy skill, she could tell that Nimbus was in a lot of pain, and George’s jostling wasn’t helping. She whipped her outer robe off - grateful the bulky cloth was in multiple pieces - and laid it down on the ground, the minor enchantments keeping the inside at least free from the mud. With a pointed gesture, she pointed towards the impromptu surface as she rolled up her sleeves and cast a quick disinfectant spell to get her hands clean. Rain fell on them immediately after, but this was the best she was going to get.
She kneeled on the cloth next to Nimbus, momentarily squirming at the sensation of the mud parting between her knees, but not sinking into the earth. He was lying at an awkward angle, breathing laboured, and a quick Diagnose showed her the extent of the damage.
Nimbus (Familiar)
HP: 3/65*
Conditions:
Concussed (Minor)
Internal Bleeding (Minor)
Broken Bones - Ribs x4
Fractured Bones - Ribs x8
Fractured Bones - Spinal Disc x2
*Familiar - On death, a familiar reforms within 24 hours. This is a new template, and will not have the experience of the deceased familiar, though will be the same level and creature type.
Sarah didn’t even bother bringing that last part up. She knew George wouldn’t like the implication of even raising the option, and so she didn’t. Besides, a few broken bones wasn’t too bad. All the blood was even on the inside, where it was supposed to be. She could do this.
With an eye on her MP, which had continued to regenerate drastically, at a rate that it would take just over five minutes to refill, Sarah began to cast.
First, it was an easy matter to sweep through with just under a dozen castings of skeletal Mending, and as the Fractured Bones dropped off of the diagnosis, some of her rushing thoughts organised and she was ready to move on. Second, she cast Hemo-rejuvenation, to help replace some of the blood lost internally.
Her eyes widened as she saw Nimbus’ stomach begin to swell. The extra blood must have nowhere to go! “George, knife, now!” She shouted, cutting off the spell. In the corner of her eye, the Diagnose display flickered, new conditions popping up rapidly until the hilt of a dagger was pressed into her hand and she made a small incision in the stomach.
Like a bursting blister, a small wave of blood splashed out from Nimbus’ unmoving form, soaking through her outer robes. Gritting her teeth, she made a few quick observations. The first was that she was running low on MP. It would regenerate quickly enough, but right now she was low. She would have to be smart about her next series of spells.
The second was that she lacked any sort of spell to reset bone, so she’d have to do it manually. She pondered her character sheet, trying to plan how she’d help the poor cat.
Name: Sarah Forrest
Race: Human (F)
Class: Healer 12
Secondary Class: Animal Handler 12
Analyze: Diagnose (Increased effectiveness on blessings, curses, and status)
Race Level: 12
HP: 165
MP: 112
SP: 135
STATS
STR 12
FOR 12
AGI 12
REF 12
VIT 35
CON 35
INT 44**
WIL 42**
INS 70**
CHA 15
Equipment: Chitinscald Gauntlets
Human Skills:
Common Ancestor
Duality of Man
Species Progenitor
Primary Class Skills:
Spellcasting Mastery
Healing Aspect
Secondary Class Skills:
Animal Empathy
Practised Hands
Healer Spells:
Adrenal Response
Hemo-Rejuvenation
Flush Toxins
Rad-Remove
Calm Mind
Align Humours
Skeletal Mending (Breaker of Bones)
Accelerate Process
Extract Esoteric
Fortify Immunities
Diagnosis
Disinfect/Regen
Flesh Bond
A deep part of Sarah’s mind was revolting at the blood, and hammering her with guilt over cutting into the cat, but she pressed forward. “George, you might want to leave. I‘m going to have to-” Her breath caught, realising what she was about to say. “I’m going to have to do surgery.”
The Ranger dropped to his knees by her side, eyes haunted but determined. “Whatever we have to do, just let me know how to help.”
Sarah swallowed thickly. “Just… hold him down. If he wakes up while I’m doing it, he’ll panic, and that could do much more damage than he has now.”
George leaned forward and gathered Nimbus’ legs, holding them down onto the blood-soaked cloth.
“Good, now just stretch him out, like he’s mid-leap. Slowly! Slowly. He still has broken ribs, and I’m guessing one of those caused the internal bleeding.” Sarah resisted the urge to wipe the rain from her face, well aware her hands were much dirtier.
Sarah took a deep breath, then cast another cleaning spell on her shaking hands. With a count to three, she dove in.
----------------------------------------
Later, the group met in the longhouse to dry out their clothes and discuss their next steps and further preparations.
“A half hour,” Mitchell stated, “That’s how long we get until the next wave. Miri, you going to be good on MP?”
Miriam sat in the longhall in her underclothes, robes drying by the fire. It was a state of dress most of them were in. George had even offered to let Kyla and Ezekiel come in to dry out, though the man himself was sat in the corner with a black bundle of fur in his lap, occasionally muttering softly to it and stroking its fur. Nimbus had taken quite the hit out there, and was slow to recover. “I’m doing okay. Bit of a headache, but it’s fading as my points regen.”
That was a bit of an understatement. She was fighting back a piercing migraine, and even the crackling of the fire felt like red-hot needles driving through her brain. Luckily, she’d done a bit of maths - which came much easier to her than it had Before - and came to the conclusion that she would have full MP again in just over another hour.
Name: Miriam Agnello
Race: Human (F)
Primary Class: Arcane Acolyte 15
Secondary Class: Enchanter 6
Analyze: Scan (Effective on magical creatures and goods)
Race Level: 10
HP: 95
MP: 253
SP: 65
STATS
STR 10
FOR 10
AGI 33*
REF 14
VIT 11
CON 10
INT 81***
WIL 57**
INS 29*
CHA 10
Human Skills:
Common Ancestor
Duality of Man
Species Progenitor
Primary Class Skills:
Spellcasting Mastery
Mage Armour
Mana Efficiency
Secondary Class Skills:
Rune Mastery
Spellbook:
Flare Gun - Fires a firework that lingers in the sky to provide light.
Levitate - a basic levitation spell.
Magic Dart - a basic magical ranged attack
Lightning Totem - Creates a pillar of lightning that will randomly reach out and strike creatures in range.
Her MP regen was fuelled by her Willpower, and in total should have taken roughly ten minutes to charge up. However the pace was glacial, about ten times slower, so she imagined that was the cost of running completely out of MP - well, that and the fainting.
“Good.” Mitchell continued. “Is that lightning spell something you can repeat?”
Miriam winced. “Barely. I actually took some HP damage as I cast it, so I’d prefer not to until I figure out why that was. Ideally, I’d fix it. I was trying to call down a lightning storm. Don’t rely on it, though. I can do Flare twice now, or spam Magic Darts, as they only need 4 MP from me to cast. With a cast rate of approximately 7 per minute, I can keep my MP close to full if it’s needed.”
“That’s not the best, but better to have you available in an emergency. Archers, how was the battle?”
With a look over at a distracted George, Ezekiel leaned forward on his bench. “It felt easy. Much easier than any fight we’ve had before.”
Kyla scoffed. “Speak for yourself, pansy. You weren’t down in the mud with us.”
Mitchell raised a hand to quell the retort. “Kyla, you’re a ferocious fighter, and I don’t forget the aid you rendered when I was in need. However, this is the place for meetings of strategy and policy. Do you feel Ezekiel’s contribution so little that we should break from this meeting to resolve the issue?”
Kyla settled back onto the bench, with a glance towards her steaming clothes. “Nah, champ. Just grumbling.”
Mitchell nodded, the faintest hints of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Good. It would have to wait until after the siege anyways. Anything more to add, Ezekiel?”
“Only that you should train a couple of your villagers with bows, but I don’t know the whole story.”
“Absolutely not.” Sarah answered firmly, even as she wrung her hands. “They came for a better life, a place to live safe. We won’t repay that by pressing them into combat. Quite a few have noticed that already, and are all the more loyal to Old Milltown because of it.”
“That brings us to our next point,” Mitchell waved in Sarah’s direction, “in regards to our Support Corps. How are they doing? Our fighters definitely think well of them - food will do that for most soldiers - but what do you think?”
Sarah sighed. “We should cut the numbers by half. We have citizens, but soldiers don’t need personal servants. John - well, I’ll let him explain.”
John placed his hand on Sarah’s shoulder, then stood. “I agree. We have too much support for our number of fighters. I know we won’t get anyone else until the morning, but we need cooks, armourers, tailors, hunters - I plan to build a legion, and every legion needs a camp of followers to keep in top shape. After the siege I’ll offer training for more Tiros, but you could cut out half the Support Corps, get them started on more housing, latrines, clearing land, gathering lumber… You’re neglecting the town in favour of the battle.”
Mitchell hummed. A flash of anger swelled up at the implication that he was being neglectful, but in all honesty he likely was. With a brief note to himself to see if Miriam could enchant the Calm spell into his chair, he responded. “See it done. Those with applicable skills can bow out of the Support Corps to work on village building projects. Better, see if you can’t make a list of available classes, and we’ll see if that doesn’t help shape our development after the siege.”
Sarah nodded.
“George. Explain your view of the battle.”
George didn’t stand, nor acknowledge the question beyond his wooden response. “I started by attempting to shoot the Shaman. Shot blocked by other troops, so I flanked through the woods. One of the Brutes came at me, got Nimbus, we retreated. That’s it.”
Mitchell frowned, dismissing the terse reply. “Alright. Lastly, John - what’s the status of your troops?”
“Centurion is ready to rock, Optio is doing well, one of my Tiros will need to sit the next one out though. We could also use gear upgrades, but that’s for after. Once this is all done, we’ll need to explore a budget.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Mitchell sighed. “Yes, we will. Distribution is one of the options that’s greyed out until the next Settlement level, which I’m working on. We’ll eventually be pulling in money, so the System makes sure it goes to the right place. I have to say, the ability to root out any sort of middle-man corruption should be invaluable.” He looked around the room. “Any further concerns or comments, or do we move on to the fun part?”
Miriam went first, clearly waiting for this. “I got a few skills. Acolyte got me my Spellcasting, I got a premade spell called Mage Armour - and I’m glad its premade as it’s complicated as all hell - and I just got a new skill called Mana Efficiency, which should be self explanatory but I haven’t tested it yet. Enchanter - despite being a sexist class name that should really be Enchantress - gave me Rune Mastery, which is basically like converting arrays from English into Heiroglyphics, in the simplest explanation. It’s been hard to level.”
“Nice. Self-cleaning toilets, here we come.” John joked.
“Maybe I’ll just enchant your head to cut off all your hair every morning?” Miriam said sweetly.
“Wow, enchanting! Can’t wait for you to unlock the mysteries of the universe.” John corrected quickly.
“I think you just volunteered to go next.” Sarah quipped, and John nodded in acceptance.
“Not as much as Miriam, but I have weapons from my primary, then I got Testudo which you’ve all seen, and after that last wave I gained 2 levels and got a new skill called Hold the Line, which is supposed to buff allies when we hold a position. Carpenter got me Tool Mastery - which applies to axes, planes, levels, and all sorts of carpentry tools - and I also picked up my level 10 skill called Woodfuse. I can join wood together without the need for a joint or nails.”
“Did you-”
“Yes, I already fused the wall. It was a toss-up wether or not it would be effective, but it gave me experience for the class so I did it.”
“Alright then. You’ll cover the gate again during the next wave, I imagine?”
John nodded, determined. “They won’t get through.”
“Good. George, did you pick up anything big recently?”
“Primary was weapons, then I picked up Dodge at 10 and Tracking at 15. Secondary gave me Cooking mastery, and I got Quality Ingredients after breakfast this morning, which increases the quality of my cooked foods by one step. Whatever that means. Next.”
Mitchell frowned. George was clearly concerned about his cat, but Sarah had fixed Nimbus up. It was tight, he’d heard. “Sarah?”
She gave a tired smile. “You were there for most of my healing stuff but for the group - Primary gave me Spellcasting, then Healing Aspect at 10 which reduces costs of my bio spells intended to repair rather than injure. Secondary gave me some limited Animal Empathy, then after my surgery earlier, I got 3 more levels and the Practised Hands skill, which makes all my care and aid efforts more effective. Oh and George? Nimbus is worried about you.”
George almost fell off his chair. “Me?! You sure that’s working right?”
Sarah smiled softly. “Almost positive. I can’t read thoughts, but the biggest feelings I get off of him are guilt and worry. Given that the worry spikes whenever you speak, I felt it was a safe assumption. What I don’t feel any of, is pain. He’s alright, George. He’s going to be alright.”
George lifted the bundle of fur and hugged Nimbus tightly. “I’m sorry buddy. You did great. You did so great, I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve earned at least three whole fish, whatever kind you want.”
“Aaaand now he’s back to smug. Quite the character, aren’tcha?” Sarah cooed at the cat, and Mitchell finally cleared his throat.
“As glad as we all are to hear Nimbus will be alright, I think we’re almost done. Ezekiel, Kyla. I won’t force you, but I do have to admit that hiding these things will make me suspicious. Are you comfortable sharing your classes and skills?”
Ezekiel shrugged. “Nothing big from me. I’m an Archer. Hit level 15 in that last fight. I have Weapon Mastery as my 5 skill, Steady Aim for my 10 skill, and just got Battlefield Awareness, which it says gives me increased intuition when it comes to the timing and placement of my shots.”
“And your secondary?”
“Don’t have one yet.” He responded tightly. “From the sounds of things, those are non-combat classes. We haven’t really done much else. Kyla doesn’t have one either.”
“Nope.” The named woman confirmed. “I’ve just got Warrior, but I’m at 21. Weapon Mastery like everyone else at 5, Swift Step to help me move around the battlefield at 10, Strengthened Weapon at 15 to enhance the durability of any weapon I’m using, then I just picked up Piercing Strike, which can go through a small amount of armour.”
“And no secondary class.” John asked to confirm, and received a nod.
“Don’t need ‘em right now. We aren’t gonna stop and craft in the middle of a siege.” Kyla answered.
Mitchell sighed again. Another choice loomed before him, though this one was easy. “Let me explain my classes, and maybe you’ll start to see why we kicked your guys collective ass the first time you came around.” He stood, and strode over to the System Glass, as they’d started calling the odd mirror in the main hall. He pulled up his status screen for all to see.
Name: Mitchell LeFleur
Race: Human (F)
Primary Class: Page of the March 15
Secondary Class: Aspiring Clan Leader 12
Analyze: Intuit
Race Level: 13
HP: 220
MP: 91
SP: 190
STATS
STR 54
FOR 63
AGI 18
REF 18
VIT 36
CON 42
INT 27
WIL 103
INS 26
CHA 43
Human Skills:
Common Ancestor
Duality of Man
Species Progenitor
Primary Class Skills:
Weapon Mastery
Guard
Inspire Courage
Secondary Class Skills:
Settlement Management
Diplomacy
Mitchell stood beside his displayed Status, waiting for-
“Over a hundred?!” George exclaimed. “How the hell?”
“My highest is 81!” John shouted. “And that’s in my Strength, how do you have 50? And 60 Fortitude?!”
Miriam mumbled. “Same as my Int…”
Mitchell raised a hand. “Listen. We don’t know how much of an impact Willpower has. As it stands, I recharge my MP quick, and that’s it.”
“Willpower also helps you resist mental effects.” Ezekiel added. “Singh’s social skills targeted Willpower against his Charisma.”
“Okay, I recharge my MP quick, and I’m a stubborn bastard. So be it. Though it seems it’s clear from your reactions - especially you two - that my stats are a bit higher than everyone elses.”
“My INT is higher.” Miriam stated. “Than yours is, by the way, not more than your Will.”
“I’ve got higher Strength… and Reflex, and Agility, and Instinct, and Charis- you know what, I’m all of a sudden not as upset.” John answered.
“Agility, Reflex, Instinct for me.” George interjected. “Damn, you’re a slow one, eh Mitch?”
“I’ve got Instinct and Intelligence over him, but Miriam’s got me beat on that front.” Sarah admitted.
“All of them.” Kyla despondently cut in. “Every single stat, you out-do me in. I’m level 21, how is that possible? I have like, ten levels on you!”
Mitchell nodded. “That’s my point. Your secondary class gives stats as well, and you can’t level up your race without a secondary class, which also gives stats. You’re likely working off of… four or five stats per level?”
Kyla grimaced. “Two each of Strength, Agility, and Vitality, then one each of Fortitude, Reflex, and Constitution.”
Mitchell nodded. “I’ll break my classes down, though keep in mind the System told me these were ‘Very Rare’ classes, and they are quite hard to level. My Page class grants me 5 Willpower, 3 each of Strength and Fortitude, and 2 Constitution for 13 total points per level. My Clan Leader class gives me 3 each of Charisma and Willpower, 2 Vitality, then a single Instinct, Intelligence, and Fortitude point. Human gets all of us a single stat point in each stat for each level. So If I level each of my classes once, I get 9 Will, 5 Fort, 4 Strength and Charisma, 3 Con and Vitality, 2 Instinct and Intelligence, and 1 of Agility and Reflex. That’s 34 points, for two levels.”
“I get 28 points.” Miriam offered to cut off any complaints. “But I’m not forbidden from retreating, and can gain experience by just enchanting stuff. He’s gotta run a village.”
John started unsteadily. “I get 29, I think.”
“24.” George pouted. “At least they’re easy to level.”
“Nimbus is growing too.” Miriam pointed out. “You might be giving him some of your stats.”
“26 for me.” Sarah said with a smile. “I’m fine in the middle of the pack.”
Ezekiel spat out his own answer. “9 points. 9 points across 4 stats.”
“19.” Miriam responded automatically. “Don’t forget that each of those levels will be boosting your race, for ten more stats. They’re just conditional on you getting a second class.”
“Nine points seems like a good amount.” John contributed. “Seems like Mitch has the top class with his Page at 13 points per level. I get 12 from Centurion, but I only get 7 from my secondary where he gets 11.”
“So what does that mean for us? How can we use that?” Sarah asked.
“Well it seems simple to me.” Mitch said, and the conversation quieted to listen to him. Mitchell felt a pang of discomfort at the attention, but pressed onwards. “Our best defences during the last wave were us, and mainly due to having two classes. I would like to extend that offer to our newest members of the Clan, should they decide they wish to stay with us afterwards.”
“What, to fight in the defence? We’re already doing that, and you said we didn’t have to stay. Are you going back on that?” Kyla challenged, her hands curling into tight fists.
Mitchell shook his head. “No. I am offering something new in recognition of your skills and contributions. We were lucky that nobody died during the attack - I cannot say that luck would have held without you two here with us. Kyla, you personally forayed out the gates with me, and knowing what I do of your stats now, that has to be one of the bravest things I’ve seen yet. You fought with us faithfully and with conviction - I would see you gain in power, both for your own agency and for the might of our village.”
“So, what? You give us a second class if we agree to be conscripted?” Ezekiel asked thoughtfully.
“Nothing so draconic.” Miriam offered, glancing to her fiance and urging him to explain himself.
“My offer is this:” Mitchell stated. “Join us as Inner Members of the Clan. Become a part of our founding, contribute to the living in and thriving of this village, represent our beliefs and follow our laws. In return, I offer you this: Any member of our clan will be as family to us - we will fight your battles, feed your family, labour in your fields. As surely as the sun rises, you may be certain that when you come across hardships, we will not abandon you or see you suffer alone. As a part of that, we will share what we’ve learned of the System, just as we expect you to reveal any insights you may find on your own.”
There was quiet as the room turned to the pair to await their response. Ezekiel was first to speak. “I was not happy with our first group,” he began, “mainly because I’d hoped to make a new start. I was naive, and because we listened to Singh, Jacob is dead. He was the best of us, and I think if he were here now, he would take your offer, purely for the chance to keep more people safe and work for the benefit of those who can’t fight themselves. And that is something I’ll try to honour. Even if he’s no longer here, I can try to be the kind of person he wished we were. You have my bow, Mitchell. Even if it is leagues weaker than your own archer, I will fight with all I have - in Jacobs name.”
Kyla scoffed. “How the hell am I supposed to follow that? I’m joining too, of course, but on one condition - you give us Singh.”
Mitchell hummed, prepared to deny, but Miriam nudged his arm and nodded to the screen where his status was still displayed. Mainly, his Willpower score. With a thought, he changed his mind. “Deal. He committed the greatest crimes against you - that of betrayed loyalty. You trusted him and he lead your group to ruin. However, I have one condition - Singh will not leave that mill until we have a prison, and I will be present for your interactions. It’s not a matter of trust, but of policy. It’s the early stages of our formation and Singh is our first criminal - I don’t want to set an aspect of our culture by accident. Other than that, his sentence will be yours to dispense.”
Kyla smiled darkly. “Trust me, he won’t be leaving.”
----------------------------------------
“Oh ho! You’ve finally come to rescue me! Took you long enough, but I suppose I won’t complain. Did either of you kill the asshole who took my swor-”
“Nope.” Mitchell revealed with a small measure of glee as he followed Ezekiel and Kyla into the old mill. The roof sagged in places, and steady drips of water created small puddles on the cobbled floor. “Our Ranger has your sword, but it’s kinda shitty so he doesn’t use it much. Makes a great meat skewer though.”
Singh’s face darkened. He sat on the hard floor, his gag spat out and hanging limply around his neck. “Put it back in my hands and I’ll show you how it skewers meat.”
A crack sounded through the room as Ezekiels fist impacted the right side of Singh’s face, snapping his head to the side. Ezekiel grabbed his hair and turned his captor to look him in the eye. “Jacob is dead. Without these people, Kyla would be dead. How, by the grace of God himself, are you the motherfucker that got to live when he didn’t?”
Singh shrugged with a chuckle, spitting blood out onto Ezekiel’s shirt. “Clearly I’m just built different.”
Kyla was staring down at him with a frown.
Ezekiel pushed Singh’s back, banging his skull against the stone wall. “I can agree with that. You know, Mitchell has decided to let us determine your fate, so I’d quit the attitude if I were you. Right now, my best idea is a long walk off a short pier.”
Singh rolled his eyes. “Let me know when you find a pier.”
Mitchell raised a hand. “2 days from now we’ll have one built. I don’t mind letting Ezekiel here test it.”
Singh glared over at Mitchell. “Oh great, the head asshole is sticking around. Tell me, does every member of your little group lack spine, and that’s why you needed my friends to-”
Blood spattered against the wall as Singh’s head cracked back. Mitchell shook out his fist, while Kyla and Ezekiel shared a surprised look. He’d moved fast. “We do not lack spine. If anyone does, it’s me - I refused to let them just kill you for your attack on our walls. Enough people have already died, and more die each day. I don’t know what the System is, but when it came, you took the opportunity to put down your fellow man rather than lift him up. For that, you are incompatible with our village, our people, and our way of life. Does that make you deserving of death? I do not know.”
“Yes.” Ezekiel spat out.
Singh scoffed. “Look at you, making speeches at me. Do you think if you talk all fancy, it makes you more important?”
Mitchell nodded deliberately. “Than you? Yes. Ezekiel, Kyla - I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Please do not sentence him now - I would prefer to do it after our battles, when our people have recovered.”
With that, Mitchell left, Kyla followed, and Ezekiel sat across the small, dank room from Singh, and sharpened a dagger.
Outside in the rain, Kyla nudged Mitchell, marvelling that he didn’t move even an inch. “So. A second class. How do I get one?”
The Page of the March ran his hand over his rain covered face. “It’s no grand secret. From what we can tell, you simply need to try to do something that isn’t combat related, and succeed. John got Carpenter by cutting and processing trees for our wall. I got my Leader class by activating the Settlement Stone. Miriam just tried to put an array on a piece of wood and blew it up, until she didn’t. What I can tell you, though, is that some of us wish we’d put more thought into it. I imagine that George would give back Cook if he could. Not that his food isn’t great, but it’s a lower-tier class from the amount of points it gives him.”
“So what, just ponder until I get to choose a rarer class?”
Mitchell grimaced. “You don’t actually get to choose. I’m just saying that if your build is mostly physical, you can work on a more social or intellectual second class to round out your stats, or you could get a physical labour class to double down on the physical. Just keep that in mind when you’re brainstorming. Also, be sure of what you want. I think that in times of peace, our secondary classes will our main contribution to the village.”
Kyla hummed. “What do you need?”
Mitchell blinked. “Pardon?”
Kyla scoffed. “What do you wish I had? You’re making us Inner Members. From what you said before the last fight, that’s a big deal. I want to make sure you don’t regret it, even if I don’t exactly know what an Inner Member is or does. So, what does the village need?”
“Honestly? I need someone who’s actually good at or knows about starting an entire nation from scratch. The village can only be a village for so long with the levels of growth it’ll level into.”
Kyla shrugged. “I played a few strategy games, but that’s about it. I could definitely optimise your tech tree research-”
“No tech tree.” Mitchell interrupted.
“Fine, I can take care of diplomacy then.”
Mitchell shook his head again. “Literally one of my class skills.”
“So what, you want a secretar- God damnit.” Kyla almost looked dejected as a soft golden glow suffused her skin from within, quickly travelling up to her head and fading.
Mitchell’s eyes widened at the screen that popped up before him, casting an almost pleasant blue light on the surrounding rain. “Did you…”
Kyla nodded, lips pressed tight.
You have received a request.
Kyla Turner has requested to be your Personal Aide in your capacity as Aspiring Clan Leader of Old Mill Town village.
Relevant Skills: Doc-Jockey
Relevant Class: Administrator
Do you wish to accept? WARNING: Doing so while village parameters are as they currently are will promote your Personal Aide to the Inner Members of your Clan.
Mitchell easily accepted, blinking twice when there was another pop-up.
Core: 6/6
Inner Members: 1/20
Outer Members: 3/50
Aspirants: 36/500
Total Population: 46/576
“So…” Kyla let out with a dash of uncertainty.
Mitchell laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “Thank you for your sacrifice. We’ll go over what exactly it is you’ll do after the battles, but you should have gotten a stat boost for hitting your first level in the class - which starts at 5, for some weird reason - and a few race levels out of it.”
Kyla nodded with a savage grin lighting her face. “Instinct, Intelligence, and Charisma. 2, 3, and 5! Not to mention Race levels. C’mon, boss, let’s go administrate some stuff!”
----------------------------------------
Ezekiel stared at his former friend. “When you first showed up with Jacob, he said you were a good guy, and I trusted him.”
Singh, in an uncharacteristic display of sincerity, agreed. “He was always a trustworthy fellow. I’d have believed him too.”
“But you aren’t, are you? How much did it hurt you, when we went down to volunteer at the soup kitchen? When we would do charity fundraisers with Jacob?”
Singh looked hurt. “I’m not a monster, Zeke. You’re making me out to be some sort of baby-eating, puppy-kicking asshole.”
“You advocated murder in what could only be called a natural disaster dialled up to 11.” Ezekiel said flatly. “Your persuasion directly lead to Jacob’s death. He was my best friend, and listening to you killed him.”
“I wasn’t the one who swung the sword.” Singh protested.
“No. The one who swung the sword was a man I’ve come to respect, if not know very well. A man who put his life on the line not to get something for himself, but to ensure some leech didn’t take from the people he cared about. All of them, you should see them fight. It’s like… they either don’t care about their lives, or they just.. Trust one another so deeply, they know they’re covered. Even Kyla bought in. She took enough damage to pass out but she saved John’s life. The man who killed her cousin. Do you know why she did that?”
Singh shook his head, an ache forming from his earlier beating.
“She told me after she’d gotten healed back up. She said that the only thing she’d done since we got here was make things worse, and that if she’d died from her wound, she would have deserved it, and died unmourned. She said that she would have deserved it, but this group didn’t agree. They sent one of their fighters to protect us during the first wave, only one night after we tried to kill them all and take their home. Then she told me this, she said: ‘Ezekiel, if I only do one more thing with my life, I want to do something to make sure that someone writes something good on my gravestone.’ It broke my god damn heart to hear that. So, Singh. Thank you, for being an irredeemable asshole. Without your bullshit, Kyla might not have decided to make that turn, and she’s seemed much happier since, even if she’s been injured more times in the last three days than we had our whole lives. That said, I will kill you. I’ll do it right, and properly, and legal by the code of this place. I just wanted you to know that when your life ends, and it will soon, it will be me holding the blade, and I will not make you suffer.”
Singh held his tongue as Ezekiel left, realising for the first time that he truly had no hope of rescue.
----------------------------------------
The rain was finally beginning to let up, though the puddles and mud would be around long after the end of the deluge. Sarah had worked her magic bringing everyone back to health, even replenishing blood lost to let the more wounded rejoin the fight without dizziness. Her skill as a Healer was only growing. Miriam wasn’t quite recharged yet, but she still stood up on the wall, ready to unleash everything she had gained if there was an emergency,
Ezekiel had yet to find his second class, despite receiving the same insights that Mitchell gave to Kyla. Kyla had quickly levelled her Administrator class by organising the small group of Aspirants and putting them on a list, then gathering their skills and assigning them to the Support Corps or the newly formed Development Corps. Now, she stood among them with enough stats to fight on equal ground.
Mitchell stood at the gate by John’s formed up mini-Legion, ready to foray outwards as soon as he saw a path to victory, yet still worried about another Shaman showing up and buffing the forces beyond his ability to deal with.
Then the timer ran out, and Mitchell saw there was no Shaman. No, there were three Shamans, lead by a taller, muscular Raccan outfitted with a crossbow, a sword, and dark leather armour. Skirmishers and Brutes forced their way out of the trees until the land outside the gates swarmed with Raccans, at least a hundred of them.
Raccan Commando
Disposition: Hostile
Mitchell would never admit it, but as the Commando’s clearly intelligent eyes swept the battlefield and lingered on him, he felt a cold chill run down his spine, even as another pop-up appeared.
Intimidation Resisted!
“Good thing I set more traps while y’all were goofing around playing city builder.” George snarked, and that was all there was time for before the small army of Raccan’s surged forward like a wave.