“It’s not a lion?” Even though he spoke softly, Walter’s voice was loud in Reeve’s ear as she ran down the path, retracing their earlier, slower progress. With each footfall, the nearly horizontal shaft of the naginata rolled lightly up and down the cupped fingers of her left hand, the grip of her bow providing counter time against the fingers of her right.
“You know what a lion looks like, Dad. Did that look like a lion?”
“It looked like big, Evie. Like really big. Big like a lion. I might not have been able to see what it was because of how big it was.”
“She’s not that big.”
“It’s a she?”
“Yes, she’s a she. And she’s my Companion, Nyx, so you need to not freak out when you see her this time. Wait, speaking of…what happened to you diving in front of threats to protect me? Remember the goblin?”
Walter coughed. “I, uh, may have different levels of panic.”
“You think?” Reeve glanced toward the sun, nearly directly above them, and then checked her UI. They were almost back to where she’d left Nyx and the honey badger, who’d seemed to immediately form a casual indifference that might have been facilitated by their shared distaste for her father’s behavior. “But forget about lions, she’d find the comparison offensive. She’s a Miracinonyx, an American cheetah.”
“There aren’t cheetahs here.”
“Here? We’re not in the Americas right now, Dad, remember? You’re a halfling riding a half-orc, we’re—“
“Not in Kansas anymore.”
“—yeah. That. There used to be cheetah-like cats in North America. They’re a companion option in-game.”
“She’s your companion, like the honey badger is my companion?”
“Not even a little bit. She’s actually my companion. You and the honey badger aren’t besties yet, wouldn’t you say?” Reeve glanced at the last entries in her Combat Log.
A Level 8 Honey Badger disembowels Reavyr (II) with teeth and claws for 113 points of damage. Reavyr (II) has died. Respawn in 30 seconds.
Reeve shivered. “Your death debuff worn off yet?”
“Maybe. It’s a little hard to tell right now because my motion sensitivity is acting up.“
“I’ve never heard of a motion-sick halfling.“ She turned her head slightly to look into her father’s face, which was too close to her own to focus on clearly. “But let me know if you think you’re going to be sick.”
“Okey-dokey.”
The silence into which they lapsed was a relief to Reeve, a relief that lasted the better part of thirty seconds.
“Evie?”
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“Yes?”
“Since when do you say ‘oh, poo!’ when you’re surprised?”
Reeve grimaced. “It’s not me, Dad, it’s the game. There’s a profanity filter.”
“I didn’t hear anything filtered out. I just heard ‘poo.’”
“Well, ‘poo’ isn’t what I’d tried to say, but that’s what came out because of the filter.”
“The game can change what comes out of your mouth?”
Reeve shook her head dismissively, then took a deep breath. “Cheese and rice!” She said loudly. “Bish! Gosh freaking darnit! Fuddle-duddle! Fudge! And…poo!”
Walter was silent as he clung to her for a half-dozen strides. “Goodness gracious,” he finally said in a quiet voice.
“See!” She said.
“Well, no. ‘Goodness-gracious’ is exactly what I meant to say.”
Reeve rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. But, hey, while we have a few minutes, open up your UI, and let’s take a closer look at your Stats panel.”
Reeve ran in silence for half a minute before her father suddenly jerked her to the side, and she had to correct quickly to avoid running into a tree that stood just off the trail.
“Got it open. Now what?” Walter said.
“I want you to read me your Abilities. They’re in four groups. The first group, Constitution, Dexterity, and Strength, affects how your avatar—your halfling character—performs physically. Wisdom mainly affects how your avatar performs when it comes to magic. Intelligence modifies how you perceive the world—basically the level of useful information the game feeds you. And Charisma modifies how NPCs respond to you.”
“Honey, can you back up. What was the first? Not Constipation, consti...whatsit?”
“It doesn’t matter, just find the section labeled Abilities and read me the numbers. Everything would’ve started at a base of three points before you distributed the allocatable points.”
“If you say so. Let’s see. Hmmm. Ah, here we go.”
Reeve ran on, the motion calming her, a small thing but one she could be grateful for ahead of their likely fight at the kobold camp.
“Three,” Walter said.
“That’s at the top?”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s Constitution. You must not have assigned any additional points to that.”
“Constitution! That’s right. Says it right here next to the number.”
“OK. Next.”
“Three.”
“No, go on to the next.”
“I did, Evie. The next is also three. ‘Dexterity.’”
“OK. Fine. Keep going, just read them all off.”
“Three, three—“
“Are you starting over?”
“No, I’m going on—“
“You mean the first four are all threes?”
“Yes, that’s what it says. ‘Three, three—‘”
“Wait! Are you starting over again?”
“Yes, this time I took it from the top.”
“Gguhh. OK. Start over, and just read them all through at once.”
“OK, OK.” Walter cleared his throat as though beginning a lengthy oration. “Three, three, three, three, three—“
“Wait, wait! They’re all threes! What did you do with the points you could have allocated?”
Walter rode silently on Reeve’s back for several seconds. “Oh, no. They’re not all three. This last one here.”
Reeve was fairly sure she could hear her father squinting.
“Three—“
“You just said it wasn’t three!”
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I thought you wanted to start over every time.”
“Just tell me the last one, Charisma!”
“OK, OK, calm down, Honey.”
Reeve thought she heard more squinting.
“Forty-three.”
Reeve stumbled. It took half a dozen steps to refind her usually-smooth stride. “F-forty-three?”
“Yes, Evie. Do you want me to read them all again?”
“No! Why on earth did you put all of the allocatable points into Charisma?”
“I don’t know, Evie. I think they were in ABC order in the dentist’s office and it wouldn’t let me go on, so I just slid the top slider all the way over until the points went away and I could go on. Is that a problem?”
“Well it’s not great,” Reeve said. “I actually have no idea how it’ll play. I doubt anyone’s ever min-maxed Charisma in this game. Maybe as a joke with a garbage build. I guess we’ll find out when we run into some NPCs.” Reeve ran without speaking for a few minutes, considering the unbalanced, top-heavy mess-of-a-halfling avatar they were stuck with. “Well, now we have a better idea why you don’t have the Dexterity needed to hold on to your bee smoker. And why you’re so scrawny, particularly after maxing your upper body when you were doing the Strength distribution. But we’ll have to come back to this later. Nyx has scouted the kobold camp where Mom’s being held. We’re almost there.”