~JST POV~
"I'm saying go play babysitter with the Great Turgill. Only God knows where the luck you get comes from." Cobb said rubbing his forehead. He was probably regretting it already.
God Quest: An Actual Babysitter
Pat, God of Boredom and Entertainment is bored and in need of entertainment. He has tasked you with riding the ancient entity, for fun of couse.
Rewards:
+ A really cool hat
I laughed loudly, this was the type of stuff I played for. Pat's shaping up to probably be one of the only gods I enjoy. A god who's just trying to have fun? Sign me up as your paladin, earthly incarnate, represenative of the order of boredom and enterainment, heck possess me even, that might be fun. The only stabbing regret I have is not coming up with the idea of riding Baby Bob myself. I had the skill for it and everything. My laugh waned as regret took over, which then was replaced by anticipation and excitement.
"What's so funny?" Jones squinted.
"Oh nothing, just that, this might actually be more fun than actually fighting the thing." I took a moment to look at the notification again, smiled and ran towards the newly dubbed Baby Bob.
A sad sandy green memory of a shockingly handsome, well-dressed and short lived friend flickered into my mind.
That fucking hat will be mine. I'll look better than Jeff ever did, that green-eyed bastard.
I grinned, we all had our ways to honor the dead. Even if mine was to show them up.
When I arrived it seemed almost like a sparring session, Jack and Gaius were sweating profusely, a sight I'm still not sure should be possible. Somehow though Cobb's sandy buddies seemed to actually sweat. Although they seemed battered and tired none seemed in any real danger, only pushed to their limits. Rubble littered the ground, the concrete floor utterly destroyed in some places, behind a pile of the stuff George was set up taking potshots when needed. It did look like they weren't in any fear for their lives, they probably realized the strange behavior as well, Bob was only matching their strength. When they got tired and weak Bob slowed down and went easier. If anything they were good distractions, who knows what would've happened if Baby Bob got out into the Uncharted. Actual predators might warrant enough power for Bob to kill them on accident and something as big as Bob would attract a lot of attention. For now though I needed to get everyone away from my ride.
"Guys get out of the way. The babysitter's here." I declared.
"Baby?" Gaius retreated, a puzzled look on his grizzled face.
"This ain't my first rodeo." I said immediately responding while also picturing myself in a cowboy hat.
"What does he mean?" The spartan asked Jack.
In response Jack stepped backward, keeping an eye on the beast he sheathed his katana, nodded to me and walked to George. His usual grace slightly stiff as though he was working through cramps. Gaius followed him with a backwards glance to me, not even trying to hide the fatigue in his muscles.
I approached Bob slowly. He craned his head in what could only be the cute tilt of a puzzled baby.
Without Cobb and Jones here, there was probably no way we could contain Baby Bob. They just need to take care of the Queen while I take care of the baby long enough for them to find his crib.
Now, how do I go about distracting an ancient baby?
Twenty minutes later, after a very cautious apporoach, coupled with a language barrier, the problem of differing sizes, as well as the slow understanding of a juvenile mind had me arm wrestling the quill-less pinky of a Baby Giant Turgill. I didn't have the senses that Jones had but even I could hear Tad yelling at George.
"-the man absolutely knockered? What fool would even dare!" He sounded more in awe than in actual protest. In fact, loud snippets of conversations along the same lines filtered through my hearing the past twenty minutes.
The rest nodded in what I took to be agreement. They weren't as incensed as Tad, seeing as they had actually fought Baby Bob they might've realized im in less danger than it seems, there's also the fact that I've already been thrown across the room twice already. There were dents to prove it after all. Very embarassing dents.
Meanwhile I had just lost the fourth arm wrestle, this time I looked at Baby Bob and smiled, something I hoped he recognized. To my surprise, some obscure third removed cousin of the expression alighted onto his face. It wasn't creepy, just strange and, after associating the face with a smile it had the same effect on me as anyone else's did.
Near the tenth or so match, or so I thought - I lost count - I decided to try a bit harder. I pointed down to his pinky which attracted his gaze then I began. I adapted the optimal grip in a normal arm wrestle to that of his pinky, which basically consisted of my forearm lying against the last crease of his finger. If I unfurled his pinky, I won, If he curled it all the way encasing my arm, he won. There was no way to know if he understood the rules, but I was still intent on winning, not only for bragging rights against a giant primordial beast but also to gain some trust, and most importantly have fun.
I counted to three, which Baby Bob had realized the purpose of previously, and we began. Just his pinky was enough to take me down completely, when I was using about 40% of my strength. I upped it to 50% to meet the increasing push Baby Bob used to curl his pinky. At 65% percent Bob looked at me puzzled, at 75% he was smiling. This kept on going, him slowly ramping up the power, while I constantly met him full throttle. The result was a stalemate.
It had been forty-five minutes since I first interacted with Baby Bob, sometime during that everyone else had moved closer, accepting the fact there was no current danger, but refraining from helping Cobb and Jones on the off-chance something changed and Bob needed to be contained. Of course, these lazy fuckers might just want to watch me beat some ancient ass.
"What's so different now?" Gaius chimed in, realizing the lengthy match. The spartan was lounging around with the rest, his sword lying beside him.
I was at 80% of my strength when I realized they had moved closer again, near enough that I could hear the group clearly.
"Man's bonkers, a loon n' only a loon would chase this thrill." Tad said, although his eyes sparkled in the same way they did when staring at George's sniper. He was maybe fifteen meters away, the closest one, leaning forward, yet hesitant to come any closer.
I smiled hitting 90%.
Jack smiled a small smile as well. "I believe JST is simply having his fun." He was cross legged, back straight observing the match five meters behind Tad.
George caught me staring at them while everyone else's focus was on my arm. "Crazy ass bastard." George spat, shaking his head with a knowing smile, unconcerned and checking his rifle and equipment.
At 100% I showed my teeth in what might have been a smile truly belonging to a loon, whatever that was.
Baby Bob's pinky was trembling and there was a look of consternation on his face, he tried to ramp up the power again but it seemed his pinky was at its limit. Then, with a trembling effort his pinky began to push me back as it moved closer and closer to his palm. It was almost sad to think all the power in my arm is weaker than the all the power in a baby's little finger. I pouted up at his face but somehow the action of curling his pinky took up all of his focus. I might've thought he had some kind of mind power with how hard he was staring.
Even at 100% my arm was pushed back. I guess ancient pinkies of ancient beings are stronger than even the strongest of present day. Two more seconds and I would lose. Me, Derjar, losing to a baby. No fucking thanks.
Oh well.
I hit 110% activating Overdrive.
His pinky began to unfurl but his grip was better now. More strength was needed.
I called upon 120%. It would've been enough from the beginning to take him down but then it wouldn't be fun at all. Somewhere deep down I was sure Pat would agree.
Some last reserve in that giant finger of his pulled my arm towards his palm, it was a fast burst and his little finger blasted towards his palm.
Immediately my eyes went wide and I activated Hyperfocus, slowing the match down, and watching his pinky rushing towards his victory condition. I spared a Hyperfocused second to be proud of the baby.
I unfurled his pinky in one go using 130% of my strength, taking advantage of Overdrive as well as the effects of Combat Savant. Bob let go of the strength behind his pinky and it smashed into the concrete with a resounding shockwave sending rock chunks flying, the kinetic forces we were putting in to play were no joke. I rolled over, suddenly feeling the after effects of Overdrive.
I lied exhausted while Baby Bob tilted his head at me and made a soft noise at the back of his throat that belied his towering frame, he leaned over me nudging my side. I held up my hand and waved him away. Thinking I broke some limits with Overdrive I decided to check my whole status as well as the blinking notifications I've put off for so long.
Class: Gladiator Name: JST
Title: The Strong One, Spider Blessed
HP: 872/872 Lvl: 45
Effects:
Race Druman: +10 STR, +20 END,
The Strong One: +50 STR
Gladiator: +10 STR per level, +10 END per level
Spider Blessed: +Relations with Spiders increased, +Can communicate with Spiders
Malvolio's Mark: +Reputation with libraries across Twoen increased. +May influence future interactions.
MP: 105/105
SP: 95/790 STR: 460 CHR: 10 END: 300 INT: 10 WIS: 10 LUK: 10 Stat Points:
Hard Scales (Race Skill) - Advanced 10 (88%)
Hyperfocus - Advanced 4 (32%)
Combat Savant - Advanced 7 (5%)
Breathing - Advanced 8 (27%)
Overdrive - Advanced 4 (10%)
Warrior Bond - Advanced 1 (10%)
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Monster Riding - Intermediate 9 (12%)
Ultimate Obliviousness - Intermediate 10 (10%)
Poison Resistance - Advanced 9 (56%)
The last time I checked my status was at level 27, that meant I had 90 Stat Points to assign, all of which went into STR. I leaned on that exponential increase, the more I have of one stat the higher my effective STR would be. The multiplier on Combat Savant never affected the HP and SP I gain per level through the STR and END increase, it did effect my actual strength and durability though.
Hard Scales (Race Skill) - Advanced 10 (88%)
The Druman are known to excel in combat, much of their culture deals with combat and thus it is no surpise to find that they have adapted a form of natural armor.
Effects:
+15% damage reduction
I wonder what happens when I max out a skill? Basically this skill just levels based on how much I get hit. Even though I can dodge most attacks, sometimes it's easier to abuse my durability than to move out of the way. It's probably my highest skill since i've been doing just that this whole time.
Hyperfocus - Advanced 4 (32%)
Your battle hardened instincts did not go unnoticed. Shifting from a state of joy and complete catharsis to complete control and focus is found in only those who experience battle daily.
Effects:
+Perception of time slowed by 34%
+28% increase in muscle reaction
+20% speed when Hyperfocused
The speed increase and muscle reaction were both effects I learned I would get from Jones and Cobb but I never quantified. Here, I could see exactly what my bonuses were. The speed I moved when in Hyperfocus was just beginning to be noticeable to me and now I can see why.
Combat Savant - Advanced 7 (5%)
Various techniques and masteries you've acquired have combined into this skill. You have shown advanced mastery in unarmed combat, the martial arts, sword technique, hammer technique, and shield usage. Instead of granting individual skills they have been combined into this skill. In addition you have not shown any interest or reach for magic or stealth leading one to believe you thrive in combat.
Effects:
+54% effectiveness in battle
+2.7x multiplier on STR and END
I paused swiping as I came across Combat Savant. The 54% effectiveness in battle is something easily noticeable, the system doesn't do something so simple as to make enemies weaker around you and thus make you feel better, no, it makes you better. I work better in battle, my mind works faster, moves and patterns I would never have connected in that short time, I move faster, hit harder, react quicker, everything to do with battle becomes more effective. It might seem like a cheat but without the actual skills and technique this skill would actually be useless for most people. The first effect doesn't actually give me anything, everything is me. If I kick someone, it's harder. A backhanded parry, into a low sweep and headbutt becomes more fluid. A duck and roll to the left becomes quicker. If you didn't have the capability to see those things in the first place increasing the effectiveness of a simple punch doesn't do much. Meaning this skill doesn't help you become a better fighter, well, it does in the sense that you normal hits become better, but no, this skill works with what you have. So when you've spent your life sparring across a variety of worlds, learning different techniques and methods of combat 54% becomes a big deal.
Breathing - Advanced 8 (27%)
Superior respiration techniques lead to more efficient muscle movement and energy usage and consumption.
Effects:
+56% reduction in stamina usage
Of course none of that matters if you can't last.
Overdrive - Advanced 4 (10%)
Caught in a whirlwind of emotions you have pushed your body to past maximum performance.
Effects:
+34% to all stats
+Equal demerits for equal duration.
I was right, Overdrive did increase and it seemed like I had more in the bank.
Warrior Bond - Advanced 1 (10%)
Forged in battle the Warrior Bond is a connection between allies, teamates and comrades, unspoken yet everpresent.
Effects:
+100% increase in intuition of teamate planning or manuevers
+1% of your two strongest Stats are shared between party members
Sparing a glance for Warrior Bond I noticed that the first effect hit 100% which seemed kind of broken, being able to know exactly what Cobb and Jones were planning. Then I realized it was only a percentage increase of my intuition, meaning that my normal knack for spotting my brother's plans was basically doubled, which then seemed way more reasonable. The second effect is what caught my eye since nothing came during the Intermediate Tier. 1% of my strongest stats were about 4 STR and END but if this applies after Combat Savant then that means Jones and Cobb get about 12 STR and END split between them, then of couse the effect is still increasing with the skill level, eventually it looks like it'll hit 10%.
That'll be about, what? 50 STR and END tripled, so 150 split between both of them. Damn, they'd get 75 of both STR and END from me when that skill gets maxed.
At that rate Cobb could actually go melee to some extent. Normally that'd be impossible with the level of enemies we're facing but if he had the necessary STR then he wouldn't need to just use magic. On top of that, Jones will just be more deadly and last longer.
Fuck, when did I become the support?
Monster Riding - Intermediate 9 (12%)
You happen to be one of the crazy bastards insane enough to mount a monster, and to some extent, control it. Monster Riders are few but only because they make it look so fun that everyone else rushes the process and gets themselves killed. Have fun!
Effects:
+29% ease when riding monsters.
+45% of mount speed.
I shook my head at the possibilites, and focused on Monster Riding. Despite all the other combat and battle oriented skills this is definitely my favorite one, mostly just because i'm pretty sure no one else has it, but then again i've underestimated the stupidity of players before, after all I did it myself. Then again, there's not many fuckers who are as stupid as me, so there's that. Of course, it might also be because unlike the rest of repetoire this skill doesn't assist in combat or defense, it assists in fun. I fondly remembered my time headbutting gorillas off the Geckan Tree Lair riding a flying snake.
Wait, did that count as combat? I was in a battle... No, that was just good fun, no drugs or alcohol just flying snake mounts and gorillas.
I frowned remembering that I had to put down my mount after, even after assuring my brothers he was on our side. I could be flying the fucker right now, instead I had to blast his brains across a perfectly good tree lair.
"Fucking traitor." I muttered. I drew Baby Bob's attention. "Sorry Bob, that's a bad word, don't say that."
Ultimate Obliviousness - Intermediate 10 (10%)
For some reason events surrounding you that would stagger others mean literally nothing to you. You don't even care, at all.
Effects:
+20% resistance to negative physical effects
+20% resistance to negative mental effects
I don't even know how I got this one, honestly. I remember just being myself in the fog Jones conjured and then being awarded the skill. Strange system decision but I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Poison Resistance - Advanced 9 (56%)
Through exposure to various poisons your body has built a natural resistance. Poisonous effects will have less effect on you. It is said food eccentrics train this skill so that one day they can taste the Forbid Fruits, extremely poisonous and unimaginably tasty. A select few poisons disregard this skill.
Effects:
+87% resistance to poisons
It was my last skill so I read through it all just in case something changed. By the time I read the last line I couldn't help but glare at Baby Bob.
"Aww, how could I get mad at you." I looked at Baby Bob who was smiling.
"Why does he speak to it like a child?" Gaius questioned.
"Ow's the loon so calm? The monster be showing teeth!" Tad face betrayed his thrillseeking nature. It was clear the man was some degree of adrenaline junkie.
I looked over irritated. "You know I can hear you fuckers? Stop calling me a loon what the fuck even is that?"
"Crazy, illogical, stupid, rash, silly, foolish. All n' more. N' yer a huge one." Tad said.
"Because it is a child." Jack answered Gaius. Gaius paused and stared at Bob with new eyes, he was a slow dude. Ironic, given his speed in combat.
"Then stop looking at me like a kid who just met his hero. You wanna play with the big boys? Then walk on over here. And stop calling me a fucking loon." I snapped annoyed.
Tad got redfaced but slowly got up. I was actually expecting more control from him, he looked to be in his late 20s, plenty of time to master your emotions.
The guy's got some pride to protect.
He walked over to me and in a moment of speech with no accent I barely caught, Tad muttered "Father will kill me."
"Well, now who's the loon fucker?" I lounged like a french model. "Check this out Bob. The guy's scared of you! Wait, bad word again, don't say that."
"N' what be a fucker?" Tad asked.
"Nothing you need to know. Right Gaius?" Only when his knowing smile dropped did I remember the other two that I educated at the time on the finer points of cussery.
It was funny watching Bob interact with Tad. The way Baby Bob moved around Tad was especially careful and in that I realized the care and control he was using to avoid any lasting injuries. I sat back and took in the scene, slightly surprised I didn't notice it before. Maybe because at the levels of combat we were at earlier the thought never crossed my mind that Bob could be holding back. Using his name so much had me chuckling at how "Bob" paints the picture of a middle aged, balding man instead of a powerful ancient baby. Even so, the amount of speed and power in Baby Bob's casual movements were a fraction of what they were earlier, he was going through great lengths to reduce the risk of injury. That little insight along with the harmless sparring, sparked my curiousity. I couldn't help but wonder at the intricacies of his species, it seemed like he sparred for the betterment of his partner rather than for any competing factor, even our arm wrestling earlier was always him matching me.
My eyes, casually watching his movements, drifting across his body, widened. All of our previous combat I replayed, Baby Bob's movements, his huge frame was the only reason I didn't catch on earlier. He was using some kind of technique, the movement were all so similar, so efficient. I looked at him more intently, my training in different styles of combat allowed me some insight, he seemed to be moving much more smoothly than he should. I noticed the gentl reposition of his tail to maintain balance as his leg sweeped back to allow his arm to swing by. His swinging arm planted his fist and used the momentum to swing the rest of his body onto his butt. There was a control and discipline there that rivaled his care and attention to sparring.
The Great Turgill was a martial species I realized.
Unbidden, images of Great Turgills sparring across a primordial landscape played in my mind. They weaved between thick trees, using the enviroment in their battle unconsciously, a result of their sparring. The first one, slightly larger, charged the second, smaller one. The smaller turgill dodged using her smaller frame and agility to avoid and reposition. The bigger and older turgill grabbed the nearest tree and spun around it, redirecting his charge and plowing into the smaller turgill, the younger one flew into a nearby tree but got up unharmed. He taught the younger one the same move and they went through it multiple times. Time passed and the care apparent in Baby Bob showed in their species as whole as I watched the older turgill spar with the younger one. Eventually, I realized they were family, they fought bigger beasts together and while they were weaker and got tired faster they always won before it even mattered. Their superior defense and poison coupled with efficient movement and conservation of energy had them standing tall above the bruised bodies of primordial reptiles, ancient furred creatures, and in one case a gigantic worm.
In the end a viscious predator came upon them, it seemed to be heavily resistant to their poison but not completely immune. Together, they were its match but the younger turgill was crippled early leaving the larger of the two alone to combat the threat. The enemy was all claw, teeth and instinct, pure offense. The older turgill had many small victories, his quills puncturing the hide of the enemy many times, but before the poison could take effect the larger turgill ran out of stamina. The large predator was raging, the pain of the poison flaring up across his body, one too many quills had punctured him and he approached the Great Turgill having forgotten of the smaller one in its rage. As the large predator stalked closer the lone turgill could do nothing but watch as claws and teeth descended.
To the side, hidden in thick foliage lost to time, a young turgill watched the simultaneous death of her father as well as his killer. The predator's body slumped to the ground.
The small turgill didn't seem to realize what happened. That she would never taste revenge. That her father was killed and avenged in the same moment, with not a word of parting to her, save except for the action of saving her life. That the itch she may have would never be satisfied, that she had been left with the death of her father on a day like many others, only for it accomplish nothing but spare her life. Maybe, the emotions were simply too complex or the turgill had finally shut down in face of the trauma. Was she too young to understand or did she go into shock?
It became clear to me it was the former when a godly figure materialized to the side of her, beckoning her towards him. It was apparent in the slight, innocent tilt of her head that she gave him, which could be nothing but the puzzled curiousity of a baby.
"Fuck!" I yelled as I was released from the trance, swiping away the vibrant blue that assaulted my eyeballs. I needed to move, to do something. The need stemmed from something more personal but I refused to acknowledge it.
I moved towards the ancient baby, noting that no time at all seemed to pass.
"Wh-What are ye doing?" Tad said, startled at my approach towards Baby Bob.
"Fuck does it look like? I'm gonna ride her." I said climbing, sighing as soon as I finished. "That's a bad word don't say that. Also, sorry for naming you wrong. Bob doesn't work for a girl, does it?"
Somewhere deep down I felt the need to curse the God of Naming, first it was Jennifur, now this.
Somewhere deeper I felt Pat laughing and Jennifur shaking his head.