“Pact-maker. Like a politician? I’m a politician? Am I supposed to make Sylvanus great again?” Moch grumbled and reflected on his bed.
The village crowd had not known how to react, with some managing a performative clap or two at the appearance of such a unique title. Even the village chief had a bit of a peculiar unreadable stare, before dispersing the crowd to let the newly class-ified young ones have some processing time with themselves and their loved ones.
Oats was oathbound against spoiling Moch’s future pathway and potential beyond certain hints and tutorial-like tips. She was in a minor dismay at how affected Moch seemed to be, spiraling deeper and deeper. She shook her head vigorously, smiled genially and confidently put her tiny hand on his shoulder.
“There is a path for all of us - the ceremony blesses classes unto those we deserve!”
“So you’re telling me I did something to deserve this? ‘Friendship’? Am I not strong enough to fight anything? How will I do anything? Will I fist-bump my enemies to death?”
“...”
She let him stew. It was a bit of a shock, after all. Moch didn’t have that much time to grieve his future falling before his very eyes as a quick rapped knock on the door alerted him - and he stood up in a wary attention. He went over to his side window and noticeded a large, burly man wearing a wide bamboo hat, covered with a scarf that was hiding his face and a large and worn-out cloak covering any other noticeable details about his body.
“Your parents sent me." The stranger grunted in a rough voice.
"Who are you! Go away!"
The stranger was unfazed as he continued matter-of-factly, "They told me to bring up the fact you ate dirt on your third birthday when there was a perfectly good cake in front of you. Also that you pooped your pants when-”
“Okay! Okay! Come in!”
Moch quickly led the person in, before he let fly more embarrassing memories of his past.
“So what’s this about? Who are you?”
The man did a quick scan of the room, taking in the austere nature of the room Moch lived in. Pity flashed through his eyes before they returned to stone, and he sat on the only other piece of furniture around, the shaped and covered mound of straw Moch called a chair.
From the chair, the stranger swept his coat aside, unveiling a big rolled-up bundle underneath, declining the request to name himself. After thrusting his hands out and casting [Privacy Ward] on the room, he dropped the bundle on the table and unrolled it, revealing a long assortment of starter weapons of all kinds. A quick [Analysis] by Moch revealed they were all precisely level 10 equipment.
“I'm here to give you some things from your parents. This village is a short stop away from where I headed anyway.”
Moch’s face lit up at the mention of his parents and the implication that they were safe. He moved to greedily grab the inexpensive equipment that was utterly priceless for him now in front of him before he was stopped.
“Hmm…” The Stranger put a hand up to stop the entirety of Moch's body from moving, and grunted as he willed an [Analysis] of Moch, one that was likely a much higher skill level than his own. There was a slight eyebrow raise when he read his detail sheet (he must have seen my class) but it was quickly tamed back to his stoic demeanour. In one swift motion, he rolled the bundle back into his coat, and rummaged through his pockets.
“This should do better. I don’t think you should be swinging any of that around with your class and skillset.”
He thrust out a trinket and handed it to Moch. Upon further inspection Moch realised it was a necklace. It had a little carving of a happy person in the middle hugging a dog-like creature the size of himself and an elf, one of the many other races that existed in Edea.
Name
Necklace of the Bond (Level ?)(Unique)
Description
The deities were not always preoccupied with wars against dark forces. In happier times, they once dreamed of having all peoples and races co-exist.
Moch was deep in his attempt to understand why he was given a necklace - but loved that it was of a high rarity. Besides specialists, most members of the public could not identify the full range of direct and indirect boosts items had, but quality was very easily discerned by feel and testing it out in the field. Skills were more easily learned from items than from learning, but they had to attune to the items to find out what those skills were. As he was scrutinising it, he noticed the stranger swiftly turn, disenchant the ward he’d casted, and head for the door. He needed a reason to continue the conversation with the stranger - perhaps get more information about how his parents were doing.
“Wait! Can’t I at least get a sword or something?I can’t protect myself like this!”
“Hmm. Not wrong. I owe your parents - I’ll leave you with this too.”
The stranger summoned what looked like a wand out of thin air, which Moch assumed was related to an [Inventory] enchantment he had on one of his clothing items, and softly lobbed it at him.
“I’ve got to go!”
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With the bequeathing of the baton as his final action, he stepped out of the house and vanished with a quick “thwip” sound.
“Ah! Damn.” Without the ability to pursue, Moch chose to just close the door. He was excited with the necklace and couldn’t wait to see what the wand could do too. Was the stranger just a benevolent hero who gave away things for free? He knew this world wasn’t that nice to people. He sat on his bed and cast [Analyse] on the wand.
Name
Olive Branch (Level 10)(Uncommon)
Description
All weapons branch from the humble wooden branch. Hehe. This one in particular comes from a tree grown in the deep south of Edea, and hums with a peaceful energy.
Moch scrunched his eyebrows at the pun made in the first line. It was the first time in his life that he'd realised that someone in the high above must be in charge of writing these descriptions down. He didn't mind puns.
“Better than nothing.”
It was nearing sundown, and his village’s magic items would begin to glow in the absence of light, powered by mana crystals. However, the rural nature of his village meant that these lights were not well spread out and he might not be safe just anywhere. He thought about it for a bit, then headed to a familiar spot of his. He left home with the things he'd been given, closed the door and headed toward the back of a warehouse that he used to come to, to unwind and process any high-anxiety days working in the farms, fields or forest (wherever needed help that day). He wanted to test out his skills.
***
He knew at the very least he had three new skills - [Endless Chest of Gifts], [Friendship] and [Spirit Equip]. None really sounded like he could survive, thrive or even contribute in a war against the shadowy forces of evil creatures and races with - but he’d have to make do with what he had. If the chest has weight, maybe I could fling it at something? What spirits could he equip? Could they launch fireballs at his behest? Friendship… he didn’t want to think about the combat ability of that one. Hugs to death? He may as well learn more about what he had.
He called out his first skill - [Friendship]!
[PASSIVE] Friendship (Rank 1)
The user gains a consistent minor aura of friendliness, empathy and implicit trustworthiness. In a sea of chaos, anger and violence, the user is able to bring across that the common way to resolve conflict is not the only way.
***
As the ability grows, the user will be able to turn friends to trusted allies. These allies can be gathered into a party. Users will also be able to, with allies’ consent, view their equipment and skills, and guide, lead and develop them.
“An aura. Good. Empathy. Not so good. Not very killer vibes. How do I slay an orc if I remember it has a family waiting for it back home? Wait. Do orcs have families?”
“Yep!” Oats unhelpfully added.
“Great. That’s great to know.” Moch sighed.
[Spirit Equip]!
[Active] Spirit Equip (Rank 1)
The user gains the spirit ability of an ally who has trusted them with it. Effects differ depending on the spirit equipped.
Current Maximum: 2
Available Spirits: NONE
***
As the ability grows, the user will be able to equip more spirits at once and synergise between all of them better.
“An ability dependent on ‘spirit abilities’, something I’ve never heard of… and I don’t have any of them. Wait a minute!”
“Yeah?” Oats queried.
Moch peered at Oats and willed the ability to work on her. A screen appeared to ask Oats if she wanted to register her spirit ability to him.
[Would you like to register one of your spirit abilities to Moch Veranus?]
She pressed yes.
[Denied.]
Moch cursed in his head. He was O for two. Soon, he would need to deal with a beginner quest that the village head would assign, as per tradition, a day after the ceremony. Village novices with new classes would have to head out and hunt a certain low-leveled creature to demonstrate their capabilities and independence. All of his hope lied on this last skill.
[Endless Chest of Gifts]!
[Active] Endless Chest of Gifts (Pull 0)
The user gains a chest from which they can pull any and all objects from the world of Edea. The probability is not fully random and might react to what the user needs the most. This ability also grants the user an infinite inventory.
***
This ability does not grow in rank, but grants a higher likelihood that better items are pulled the more pulls are done.
“Infinite inventory! 'Something I need the most!' That’s a big win! I do… I do need things to put in an inventory though. And I don’t think I’ll be farming great swathes of creatures with [Friendship].”
Oats seemed to have a reaction to his words, but chose to stay silent this time.
Moch willed the skill into being, and a weighty wooden chest with iron framing about the size of a large cat dropped into his hands. As he was feeling it, his hand grazed over the front decal, and it opened with a grand-sounding crack. A yellow light blinded him, and a display screen shot up above a small object that appeared in the chest.
[PULL 1 - SMOOTH ROCK!]
“...” After recovering from the light, Moch stared down at his prize.
“...” Oats pitifully swivelled her head from the rock to Moch.
“...”
“...”
“I have a necklace, a stick, and a rock.”
“And me!” Oats interjected happily.
“I’m going to die tomorrow.”