He… had a lot on his plate. Metaphorically speaking, that is. He’d finished breakfast with the Manelles over an hour ago.

He was now sitting on one of the balconies of his under-construction home, looking out at the forest and wondering what the heck he should focus on next.

Both Myra and Asami were there with him, sitting on chairs and at a table that he’d quickly created to accommodate them all. While they chatted, he decided to make a list of what he needed to accomplish. In no particular order of importance, he began to write.

* Start using [Psychic Reformation] to get stronger.

* This includes swapping out old blade skills for new ones and then assimilating the old ones again.

* Start using [Pyrokinesis].

* Finish his new home and the defensive wall.

* Included: building greenhouses to [Grow] things in.

* See if there’s a way to learn other magic-based Skills.

* Get a proper understanding of [Delve] and how to use it effectively.

* Go and destroy the goblin dungeon.

* Find a steady supply of cores.

* Experiment with Dust.

* Figure out what to do with Asami.

* Which also includes what to do with Myra.

* What’s up with them, anyways?!

* Learn from the various crafters in Kirkwall.

* Get his stuff (what’s probably left of it, anyways) moved to his house.

* See if I can maybe use [Psychic Reformation] to get use of the class abilities of an Egoist.

* Would allow for the ability to heal others.

* If not, see about gaining the abilities of a Vitalist.

* Might have to completely assimilate all-things Soulknife/Soulbolt first, as losing those abilities would sort of nerf my battle potential.

* Find out why my circadian rhythm is off.

* Is it because I’m now a High Elan?

* Are the days here longer than on Earth?

* Make more of the food and snacks that came over with me.

* Which would leads back to [Delve].

* But man! I want some soda! Or cola, and a good pizza! Maybe some Mexican flavoured Old Dutch chips…. Am I going through psychological withdrawal?

* Am I not as over food as I thought I was?!

* Let’s stop there….

Joram looked at his list and sighed. It was one hell of a to-do list. Fortunately, several of the items could be grouped together. Unfortunately, far too many of them were their own thing.

Looking at it all, he decided that [Delve] was the most important one to work on at the moment. His construction efforts were halted due to lack of materials. He had no idea how to try to acquire new magic Skills. And the prospect of delving into his budding relationships with the two women beside him scared the living daylights out of him.

*Snort*

He ignored Asami, turning to speak to Myra.

“It may be a bit quiet today,” he said, then explained how he needed to continue meditating so that he could figure out how to do something.

“Some quiet would be nice,” Myra replied after he finished. “And I’m sure that the foxes would agree.”

Asami nodded, then looked over to the flight model with pleading eyes. Thinking about it, he decided to allow it, with one stipulation.

“You need to place this on the construct,” he said, handing her his psicrystal. “It’ll make sure that you don’t crash or something,” he finished, getting a weird look form Asami.

As she held his psicrystal, she kept glancing from it to Joram over and over again, obviously feeling that it wasn’t just an ordinary hunk of carved crystal.

He waved her along before setting back to work on [Delve], then almost immediately opened his eyes in shock.

‘How the hell is it so easy now?’ Joram asked Avi, at a complete loss.

‘Probably due to your increased intellect,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Have you checked your System notifications lately?’

‘You know I haven’t,’ he replied, though without much bite.

Congratulations!

Skill upgrade in progress.

Previous sculpting experience has combined with your Sculpting Skill due to reaching a certain threshold.

- Improved Sculpting attained.

You’ve leveled the following Skills:

- Analyze 3 -> 6

- *Clear Mind 15 -> 17

- Cooking 3 -> 4

- Endurance 9 -> 10

- Mana Well 3 -> 4

- Privacy Mode 8 -> 9

- Quick Manifesting 11 -> 12

- Improved Sculpting 9 -> 10…

Skill upgrade in progress.

Improved Sculpting has been upgraded, continuing with progress report.

- *Improved Sculpting 20 -> 21

- Source of Power 4 -> 5

- Telekinesis 11 -> 12

You’ve gained the following attribute points:

- +1 Intellect

- +1 Spirit

Congratulations!

For reaching 20 points in Spirit, all related regenerations rates are permanently increased by 1.

“Huh,” he grunted, getting an odd look from Myra before shaking his head.

He didn’t know if there was some sort of threshold he’d just passed, or if he’d passed it long ago but hadn’t noticed until tried using the power just then. Either way, he was glad that he could use it!

‘But why the heck did sculpting just combine now?’ he asked Avi, having faint hopes that she’d know the answer.

‘Maybe it needed to wait until the Skill’s rank was high enough?’ she posited with an extravagant shrug, succeeding in thoroughly distracting him for a few seconds.

‘Ah, umm…. Yeah, that’s probably it,’ he sent, still more than a little bit muddleheaded.

‘Now, what would you do if I had a body, huh? I’m sure that you’d just be a right mess from dusk ‘til dawn,’ she teased, somehow appearing in Edi’s mobile platform’s attire, leaning over him with one of the most diabolical grins he’d ever seen.

‘I’d die,’ he freely admitted, then closed his eyes again while activating [Clear Mind].

Avi’s laughter echoed in his mind for a few seconds before blessedly fading away. Once that distraction was over and done with, he turned his attention to his gains.

The added attributes were amazing, but the bonus for hitting 20 points in a stat was fantastic. More regeneration meant more utility throughout the day. He still didn’t really use many of his Skills, so most of that was a bit lost on him, but the fact that they were increasing still felt good.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Then he turned back to his list and crossed off [Delve], but then considered working on what fell under it. With nothing pressing vying for his time, he shrugged and got to it.

He retrieved his food crate from his inventory, but since the crate had expired, he just wound up with a pile of food on the balcony. Knowing that that would continue to be a problem every time he retrieved a created crate, he instructed a construction golem to bring him a large stack of boards.

After pulling his stack of food back, the boards had a place to rest.

“What’s all that?” Myra asked, scooting her chair over so that she could get a better look.

“Ah, just food stocks from… home,” he finished, not really wanting to talk about Earth just yet.

“Can I try some…?” she asked, her intense interest only partially hidden behind an impartial tone.

“Sure, but later. For now, I have work to do,” he said, grinning.

The first thing he picked up was a can of ginger ale. It was still room temperature as he hadn’t had it in the fridge before storing it away. Tempted to open it and have a drink, he instead chose to quickly make a new set of crates with [Modify Matter]. After that, he got down to work.

[Delve] proved… almost trippy. Though, having never gotten high before, that thought should be taken with a grain of salt.

That said, his mind was filled with a crazy image that- he thought- looked like he was standing inside of a holographic projection of a galaxy, or maybe the universe, inside of a huge chamber whose ceiling he couldn’t see. The lights and patters all around him constantly flowed and shifted about as he got the sense that there were actually vast distances between each of them. Which he interpreted as his brain condensing things for him.

What he was seeing was the molecular composition of the can of ginger ale. He even got a sense of… pressure, which he also instinctively interpreted as, well, the pressure in the can. He took it all in for a while before finally getting down to using [Autohypnosis] to memorize everything about the can of soda that he held.

That took a bit longer, as the information being recorded into his mind was considerable.

But when he was done, he smiled. He then played around with recalling it over and over again, until he felt that he should move on to the next item; another can of soda, but this time cola. “America’s favourite beverage”, or something like that.

As he worked, he stacked the [Delve]d items into another, permanent, crate. Before he knew it, he’d gone through the large pile of food, so he stored it away into his inventory again and pulled out the next crate.

He got through another six crates before evening came, so excited had he been. Feeling as though he’d made great strides that day, he left with his two friends and their skulk of foxes: once more setting the constructs to guard mode.

“So, when can I try something?” Myra pestered him on the way back, soon followed by Asami the foodie.

“Rude. But true,” she grumped at him, but didn’t relent in pestering him.

“Fine, I’ll share something during evening tea. But it’s a very limited item, so you can only have one or two each,” he said, thinking about the tasty Danish butter cookies he’d memorized earlier.

Asami began to drool, then redoubled her efforts, which fell on deaf ears. He’d grown up with both an older and a younger sister. He was long past such things.

Asami pinched him. Hard.

[Autohypnosis] once again proved its worth.

After dinner, he pulled out the blue tin that held the butter cookies and passed one to each of the family, staff included, as they all took a cup of tea.

“Now, I warn you, they’re pretty sweet, so eat them slowly,” he said, then led by example.

Asami tried hers first, then paused. Her eyes grew wide, her pupils dilating until he could only see the black of her pupils. The cookie was gone a moment later, followed by a long draw of tea. Then those pleading eyes turned to him, so he handed over her second, and last, cookie.

After that, everyone else tried them. For the most part, they were well received, but Nalun claimed it was too sweet for him, so passed the rest off to Celys who gladly accepted. Myra enjoyed hers, as did Kal. The cook, whose name he still hadn’t gotten, seemed more or less indifferent. But Linette looked as though she’d just seen the light for the first time in her life.

“You must have had a hard time,” she said with tears in her eyes as she walked over to him then wrapped him in a great big hug, mashing his face into her chest.

Not quite sure what to do, he slowly reached up and patted her on the back a bit, hoping that that would do. It took her another minute before she let him go, promising to help him once again “taste the joys of his homeland”.

He nodded.

Linette then retreated back to her chair and silently enjoyed her butter cookies as she sipped her tea.

Once in his room, he had to threaten to stop being Asami’s body pillow before she finally relented her incessant begging for more cookies. Myra politely thanked him again for sharing with her before getting ready for bed, soon followed by the sulking Asami.

As he was going over more Psychometabolism information in bed, he was drawn out of his thoughts by an odd sensation.

The odd sensation spiked as he opened his eyes, withdrawing from [Clear Mind], making him look down at Asami in shock. Her eyes were closed, making him think that she was just asleep… and nibling on his nipple through his shirt as she murmured about cookies.

Unable to suppress his natural reaction to that, he slowly picked up her head and turned it to the side before awkwardly slithering out from underneath the dangerous woman. He quickly glanced over at where Myra lay in the pitch-black room and saw that she was still sleeping, though sprawled in a very unladylike fashion that caused her tank-top to twist until it showed most of her torso, exposing a considerable amount of under-breast to the world.

Now practically dying, he slipped out of his room and made his way out back, doing his best to not make a sound.

Once at the spring-fed pond, he stepped in and submersed himself in the icy cold water… which wasn’t as cold as he’d hoped it would be. He sighed as angry fish did their best to glare at him for waking them up, remembering that he had an actual Resistance to Cold now.

Still, it was relaxing, so he stayed right where he was and resumed his studies until the predawn light brightened the horizon. Feeling more refreshed than he thought he would be, he got out of the pond and had a thought.

While using [Telekinesis], he tried to squeegee off… which didn’t prove to be terribly effective. But he persisted, concentrating on pulling individual beads of water off him. Squeegee a bit, then spend time pulling off the individual beads of water. Rinse and repeat a few dozen time and he was mostly dry by the time the sun peeked above the horizon.

Looking around, he found that there really wasn’t much cover in the back yard, so he just went up to a section of the house without a window, created a couple of screens, dismissed his clothing, used [Cleanse], then created a new set of clothing, socks, and converse sneakers.

Now ready for the world, he snuck back inside in time for breakfast. Once in his chair, he studiously consumed his breakfast, apologized to Linette for not being able to help earlier, then made excuses that he was going to take a day off from building to run some errands and- no, he didn’t need any help!

His first stop was to see Magmyr, the best blacksmith in Kirkwall. For as early as it was, Magmyr was open for business and happy to have a chat with him.

“So, what’s on ‘yer mind?” Magmyr asked as he led Joram from his shop to the smithy in the back.

“I was wondering if I would spend some time learning from you,” he said, not quite sure how a dwarf would take that. From just about every source he’d come across, dwarves almost universally revered metalworking, and any half-assed person who tried to learn from them were usually tossed out of their smithy. Physically.

“Like I told’ya before, anyone who wants ‘ta learn is welcome here. Jus’don’t get in th’way,” Magmyr said with a shrug. “But I’ll be quiz’n ‘ya afterwards,” he finished with a broad grin.

Joram nodded then watched as Magmyr finished preparing his workspace and getting the forge up to temperature.

The morning passed quickly as he watched the ludicrously-skilled Magmyr work. The dwarf was either trying to show off, or completely oblivious to the level he worked at compared to just about anyone else he’d seen. That said, the more he watched, the more he seemed to understand. It was as though he was remembering things as they were shown to him, a weird sort of déjà-vu.

By the time Magmyr stopped for lunch, Joram’s head felt as though it had been stuffed full of knowledge.

“Ye all right, lad?” Magmyr asked, looking at him as though he was worried that he’d fall over and smack his head on something.

“Just… absorbing it all,” he replied, shaking his head lightly. “Would you mind if I worked a bit while you eat?” he asked hesitantly, still unsure of how far Magmyr’s teaching philosophy went.

“Sure, but if ‘ya break it, ‘ya buy it,” Magmyr said with a hearty laugh, then got serious. “No, really.”

Joram reached into his pocket and retrieved two Grade C cores, then placed them on the workbench beside him.

Magmyr glanced over, then did a double take when he saw the cores.

“That should do,” he said, nodding Joram towards the anvil.

That was all Joram needed to get started.

He rolled up his sleeves then found a suitable ingot that he deftly placed into the forge, then adjusted its position before working the bellows slowly to heat it up.

Magmyr left briefly only to return with what looked like a submarine sandwich. He then pulled a stool over to where he could get a good look at what he was doing before digging into the beast of a sandwich.

Then Joram fell into the rhythm of heating and hammering, repeating the process as needed. The ingot slowly elongated, then widened before it was brushed then folded over, re-heated, then worked again. This repeated dozens of times, so many in fact that Magmyr had long finished his meal and was idly wondering if he should grab another one, but was loath to miss anything.

Eventually, when Magmyr noticed that the sun was setting, it seemed as though the young lad was pleased with his work, then took the blade over to one of the quenching barrels before quickly testing them. Finding the saltwater barrel, he then inserted the still-red blade, causing the water to boil around the blade and for steam to billow upwards.

Less than a minute later, Joram withdrew the blade and brought it back to the anvil where he picked up the hammer again. He then placed the blade back onto the anvil before striking it just once, making Magmyr’s eyes open wide.

For after that one strike, he saw scale and other impurities fall off the blade, revealing its handsome shine to the world.

“That should do,” Joram said, then handed the now cool blade to Magmyr to inspect.

Taking a good, long look at it, even going so far as to tap in on the anvil to listen to the sound, Magmyr tossed it onto the workbench and frowned.

“Hmm, ‘tis nae complete rubbish….”