Well, seeing as how he’d gotten another updated version of the notifications he was used to getting, it wasn’t so bad. Well, not as bad as it could have been.
Congratulations!
For your hard work, effort, and intent, you’ve gained the following Skill:
- Dodge
For your hard work and effort, you’ve leveled the following Skill:
- Dodge 1 -> 2
For your hard work and effort, you’ve gained the following attribute point:
- +1 Speed
Once again, he was unsure of just how meaningful each attribute point was in the long run, but he’d take what he could get. And now that he’d gotten the [Dodge] Skill, he was reasonably certain that he was moving just a bit better than he’d been. His movements a bit… smoother, easier to execute. More natural than they’d been?
He shrugged. However it could be described as, he was glad for it. Sure, Avi still managed to pelt him more than he would have liked, but at least she was missing more often than she had been before he’d gotten the Skill.
“Thank you for your help,” he said, remembering to express his- grudging- gratitude.
‘You’re welcome,’ Avi replied simply before dropping the wooden ball that she’d kept at the ready.
Joram sighed an internal sigh of relief, glad that they’d not be continuing. Sure, it had only been about twenty minutes of practice, but those twenty minutes had been grueling.
“Once I’ve rested up, I think that I’ll try to work on [Astral Construct] a bit more,” he said to both Avi and the ceiling as he laid on the floor, noting that the ceiling wasn’t stippled like the ceiling in the apartment proper.
‘More practice would indeed do you wonders.’
He wasn’t quite sure how to take that. On the one side, affirming that practice would help him was a given. On the other side, he wondered just how poorly he’d performed to warrant such a comment.
Either way, he knew that he was woefully inadequate when it came to all things psionic, so he resolved himself to very long days of practicing for as long as his mind could hold out. Then, he resolved that in his mental downtime, he’d work on something a bit… mindless. Like weight/resistance training.
To that end, Joram opened his Inventory and quickly looked through it to remind himself exactly how much of everything he had stored away.
“Hmm,” he hmm’d as he looked at the numbers. He was reasonably sure that he had nowhere near enough metal ingots to do what he needed to, so he began mentally going over what he’d seen outside last time.
For the most part, the forest was pretty level, but he had spotted a few places that weren’t. Places that likely hid some stone. Stone that he could use to make the weights needed for a set of weights with which to work out.
Nodding to himself again, which was a bit awkward when laying down, he got up and was nearly at the living room when a knock sounded from the door. It wasn’t a forceful knock, like you’d hear from someone who was aggressive, or what you’d see in a TV drama when the police banged on someone’s door. Nor was it particularly timid. You’d be surprised by just how much you could learn about someone by how they knocked on a door, and their likely intentions.
This knock, or series of knocks, told him that the person was more or less casual, at ease. Or, they wanted him to think that at least. Joram shrugged, not really caring. He briefly contemplated getting his sword, but dismissed the idea due to lack of space with which to use it, instead choosing to make sure his old hunting knife was ready to go.
With that done, he stepped up to the door and peeked out the peep-hole, not worrying about the person on the other side noticing the change in light that would show from the other side; mostly because he hadn’t turned on any lights inside.
He was pleasantly surprised to see Reldan on the other side in all his fish-eyed glory. Well, a fish-eyed view of the teenager, anyways. Him, and another man, one who seemed to be in his early twenties… or so. He’d never been good at estimating the age of other people, and given that the guy was an entirely different race… species?, he wasn’t at all confident in his guestimate.
Not that it mattered nearly as much as the fact that the fellow had a shield strapped to his arm and a sword hanging comfortably at his hip. The guy just looked… competent. To a degree that Joram got the distinct impression that he’d get trounced by the guy in a “fair” fight.
All that said, they didn’t look like they were ready for a fight, so Joram shrugged, unlocked the door, and opened it with a polite smile on his face.
Reldan blinked at him, then gave an awkward smile and a wave as he said something that was probably a greeting of some sort. The other guy just nodded, either the strong and silent type or having just been told that Joram didn’t speak the language. Probably a combination of both.
Joram raised an eyebrow at Reldan, who then blushed slightly in embarrassment before miming that they all go inside. He shrugged, then opened the door further so that they could come in before he turned, made his way to the light switch and turned on the lights.
Reldan’s friend blinked at the sudden light, his hand briefly going to the sword at his hip before, evidently, deciding that he wasn’t being attacked before staring at the light fixtures in awe. Heck, even Reldan stared for a few seconds again before making his way to the dining room table… which, really was just the table in the living room that doubled as his dining room as it was midway between the kitchen and living room space. Tangent aside, Reldan then slipped off his backpack before taking a seat.
For his part, the new guy only stared at the lights for a few more seconds before copying Reldan, though his backpack was considerably smaller. Joram then made his way back to the door that they’d left open and closed it again and turned the deadbolt. He didn’t bother with the bar, not wanting the new guy to think that he was up to something suspicious or some such ridiculousness.
That done, he made his way to his usual spot at the table, sat down, and gave Reldan an expectant look.
The young man took the hint, cleared his throat, then motioned to his companion.
“Theril,” he said, enunciating the- presumably- guy’s name with great care.
Joram worked at moving his tongue in his mouth a couple of times before trying to sub-vocalize the name a few times before trying to speak it clearly a couple of times.
Apparently he’d done well, as both Reldan and Theril looked impressed that he hadn’t mangled the name or something. Seemingly encouraged, Reldan then leaned over and began digging in his backpack, causing Theril to look on in amusement. Soon enough, he came back up with what looked like a primitive book of sorts in his hands.
Reldan then happily presented it to Joram with both hands. Joram gave him a quizzical look before taking it with both of his, remembering that some cultures back home who presented something with both hands considered it rude to accept the presented item with just one hand.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He’d, evidently, done the right thing, as both Reldan and Theril nodded in approval. Putting the two of them out of mind for a moment, Joram then looked down to examine the small book.
The lettering on the cover reminded him of ye olde runic, a combination of Norse and Tolkien runic to be exact. He then opened the book and was impressed to see that it was reasonably well illustrated, each picture accompanied by a short word that he assumed named the thing/animal/place. He flipped through the book some more, noting that the papyrus-like paper was actually pretty smooth, all things considered. Sure, it wasn’t anywhere near as close to what he was used to, but pretty close to the kind of paper you could find in some sketch books back home that were made for chalks, pastels, or even charcoal sketching.
Then, at the back of the book, he noticed a kind of key; probably a list of their alphabet, or whatever they called the set of characters or symbols that they used to write. There were definitely more than twenty-six characters, though. Taking a closer look, some of the characters towards the end of the list seemed to be a combination of earlier characters, so he wondered if they represented a particular sound that two or more characters would make.
Joram once again shrugged before turning back to Reldan and raising an eyebrow.
That was when the reading lesson began. Or, rather, the pronunciation lesson he supposed. Which, surprisingly, was given by Theril and not Reldan, much to the latter’s obvious… annoyance? Displeasure? Jealousy?
He really didn’t know how to describe Reldan’s expression, especially given the differences in physiology and culture. Either way, Joram didn’t let it bother him too much, especially since he was more interested in learning the new language. Well, in starting to learn the new language anyways. He was under no illusions that he’d pick up the language over night-
Congratulations!
For your hard work, effort, and intent, you’ve gained the following Skill:
- Linguistics
For your hard work and effort, you’ve leveled the following Skill:
- Linguistics 1 -> 3
Joram blinked, then blinked again.
‘Avi?’
‘Yes, Joram?’
‘Do you think that the… information that Altaea left in my brain is helping me gain Skills here?’
‘That isn’t unlikely,’ she replied blandly.
Joram just about turned to her to give her the stink-eye, but refrained from doing so due to his guests. As in, not wanting to make them think that he was crazy by shooting off random glares at thin air.
Getting back to his guests, Joram found that he was able to catch a bit more of what they said. That things… made more sense, or clicked, as it were.
It was about an hour later that he also started noticing that Reldan was occasionally glancing surreptitiously towards the kitchen. Joram suppressed a smile for a bit before finally throwing the kid a proverbial bone.
“Food?” he asked, pointed at the kitchen, then asking, “Eat?”.
Reldan immediately perked up at that before Theril started making gestures that Joram interpreted as “placating”, or perhaps polite refusal. Joram, in turn, also made such gestures, smiling as he got up and retrieved a slightly larger pot than he’d used for their first meal together, and got cooking.
For his part, Theril seemed incredibly interested in that “I’m playing it cool” sort of way. From his astonished expression upon seeing the flowing water from the tap to how he set the pot to boiling on the stovetop all the way to the packaged food, freezer, and even his kitchen knives, Theril seemed impressed.
Then, when the meal was almost ready to serve and Reldan practically salivating as his nose twitched in appreciation of the mac’n’cheese with wieners, there came a heavy thump at the door, soon followed by even heavier thumping.
Joram quickly set the pot to the side before hurrying to the door and dropping the bar down before the door could be kicked open. Both Reldan and Theril were on their feet, weapons in hand, by the time Joram turned around again with an apologetic look on his face.
“Monsters,” Joram said, using the word that he’d learned not half an hour ago.
They both nodded, seeming to have already come to that conclusion. Reldan shifted to the side, looking to get a better angle in which he could deliver his arrows to the enemy. Theril approached, motioning for Joram to step aside as the banging continued.
Joram just shook his head, then made the same placating gestures that he’d used before preparing the meal. Theril gave him a weird look, then looked him up and down before frowning, very obviously thinking that he was underequipped to handle monsters. Joram just shrugged before looking out the peephole in the door.
Sure enough, more of those ugly goblins were trying to break down his door. In fact, he had to be careful not to let the door bump into his face as he looked through the peephole as they tried to break down his door. From what he could see, though, there were a dozen of the things out there, with three who looked to be stronger than the rest of the ragged bunch.
After a good two second brainstorm, he decided that dropping several astral constructs behind the group was his best option, given that he had absolutely no intention of opening his door. That decided, he began manifesting [Astral Construct]. This time, though, he focussed on putting much more psionic power into the manifestation, allowing for several constructs to be made at the same time.
It was much harder than it had been when he had only created one construct, but not impossibly so. Likely due to his choosing to keep all of the created constructs the same size. For options, he just chose to go with the deflection bonus to their armour.
Then, after having gone through all of the modifiers he needed to, the constructs took form behind the intensely focussed goblins. Since he’d pumped in a good nineteen power points into the manifestation, he got a total of ten astral constructs, all of which only took about a second to appear after the Power was released.
Once created, he immediately instructed them to attack the goblins until they were all dead. That done, he repeated the process, this time breaking the batch of constructs he created into two groups, five on either side of the now panicking goblins.
He was peripherally aware of both Reldan and Theril giving him a combination of weird and concerned looks, but he ignored them in favour of effectively directing his astral constructs in battle. Sure, an astral construct was reasonably good at what it was instructed to do while in combat, but they didn’t have a lick of tactical awareness, being constructs and all. Hence his focus.
He was very glad that each of the astral constructs was psionically connected to him, allowing him to give mental commands instead of having to verbally direct them; as would be the case if he had been a traditional [Summoner] or some such. This way, so long as he could see what was going on, he could fight his battle while remaining hidden and safe behind the heavy door. Just how he liked it.
For their part, the goblins certainly didn’t like what was going on, and after only a minute of fighting, the first goblin broke away and made a run for it. Joram immediately sent two constructs after it, not wanting any of those vermin to escape and warn others of what to expect when attacking him. Given that the battle had been surprisingly one-sided regarding the normal-looking goblins, he was confident in sending off two constructs to follow the deserter.
That said, the three tough-looking goblins were holding their own surprisingly well. They’d each taken out two of the astral constructs before the other constructs killed their own targets. But, in the end, the weaker goblins fell after an astonishingly ferocious fight, leaving Joram with only nine astral constructs to take down the three dangerous goblins. After another minute of fighting, he got another notification that a goblin had been defeated, reminding him of the one that had unsuccessfully run away. Grinning, he instructed the two astral constructs to return and attack the remaining goblins.
Had they been another creature, or perhaps monster, Joram might have felt bad for the slaughter that he’d unleashed on them. But if they were anything like what pop-culture described them to be, his personal experiences with them notwithstanding, he felt absolutely no remorse killing them off. Because, if left alone, they’d murder, pillage, and rape their way through any settlement or village that they came across. Any travellers were also fair game in their books.
In short, they were a blight on the world. One that needed exterminating.
But then he remembered the other goblins and had to wonder what was going on with that group.
“Done?” Theril asked from his side, causing Joram to nearly jump in fright.
Joram turned to see that both Theril and Reldan’s ears were actually pointed forward as they intently listened to what was going on outside. Or had been going on outside given that the goblins were now all very dead. Astral constructs fought with their very solid fists. Fists that were effectively sledgehammers. Very messy.
“Done. Eat,” Joram said with a smile, motioning for them to get back to the table.
The two foxkin exchanged looks before Reldan shrugged and put his arrow back into his quiver. Theril relaxed a bit more before finally sheathing his blade and sliding his shield off his arm. Joram nodded, then motioned to the table again as he went back to the kitchen.
The pot hadn’t cooled too much in the couple of minutes that it had taken to deal with the goblins, which was a relief. Mac’n’cheese was best served fresh and warm. After quickly stirring in a few herbs, Joram scooped a couple of large bowls for them before serving himself a smaller bowl.
Reldan gave him a dubious look, probably worried that Joram’s small bowl wouldn’t be enough for him, but he just waved it off. Theril, though, was more focussed on what he’d been served. It was understandable to question something that orange, but Joram just nodded at him and took a bite of his own serving. Reldan, however, had no such reservations and quickly dove into his own bowl.
Taking hold of his spoon, after having marvelled at it for more than a few seconds, Theril finally got the courage to take a mouthful. Then, after chewing for a few seconds, his eyes widened in… shock? Whatever it was, it must have been positive for him, as a moment later, he began wolfing down the food.
Ah, it’s always nice to see one’s cooking being appreciated, Joram mused as he slowly ate.