Chester touched two callused fingertips to the faded picture of his long-dead twin, as he stopped to scoop his keys from the crystal dish on the sideboard.
Kira... It should’ve been me, the thought came unbidden, just as bitter now as it had been all those years ago.
He looked through the ice-frosted glass to his snow-covered front walk and sighed. I just shoveled that yesterday, he lamented, turning to look back into his living room.
I’ll just let the truck warm up a bit more. Berry can wait another few minutes, he reasoned.
He took his guitar from its rack beside the TV and perched himself on the arm of the couch.
The beaten instrument had been signed by many of his favorite bands over the years, but that had never stopped him from playing it.
Wind and snow whistled and plinked against the french doors leading into his backyard as he thought for a long second before settling on Kira’s favorite Prince song: Nothing Compares 2 U.
The tone suited his mood and he fell into the familiar flow after a few seconds, letting him enjoy it for its own sake.
The tightness in his throat had eased, and a melancholic smile creased the corners of his mouth as the song faded into a comfortable silence, and he sat hugging the instrument.
He sighed.
Snow swirled in his backyard building on the not-insignificant white dunes.
"I better get my ass in gear," he muttered and leveraged himself to his feet.
He returned the instrument to its rack, shrugged on his heavy winter coat, and grabbed his keys and steaming coffee before opening the front door to the crisp bite of the early morning storm.
With a curse he braced himself before, he jumped and sprinted through the deep snow piled on his lawn and climbed into his warm truck.
He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he pulled out of the driveway. Figures, I’d get called in early today, he thought while focusing on the road and his bitter black coffee.
He turned the radio to a rock channel and began bobbing his head along in hopes of getting his blood flowing. Bloody coffee isn’t working. I might have to grab an energy drink after I hit the shop.
A yawn creaked his jaw, and he ran his hand through his dusty brown hair before taking another sip from his go-cup.
Why are radio stations better when no one’s awake? he wondered.
The heavy snow whistled across the hood of his truck, reducing visibility and making his quaint hometown feel desolate in the early morning darkness.
Chester stifled another yawn, his eyes burning as he fought to keep his attention on the road and by the time he got to work, he almost felt human with the coffee finally starting to do its job.
His boss Berry’s jacked-up-diesel idled out front of the shop's office and Chester pulled alongside the big black Ford. He hopped down; leaving his Chevy running.
He bolted for the door, pulling his bright orange toque on over his ears as he went.
The bell on the door rattled as he entered, and Chester stomped his boots to remove the snow on the long runner inside the door.
Berry was leaning over the back of his desk rifling through some papers “yeahing” into a cell phone held to an ear with a shoulder.
Hearing the bell, Berry turned to meet Chester's eye. “Yeah, hold up Frank. My guy just got in. Uh-huh... Yeah... I’ll call you back in a minute.” Hanging up, Berry shot a glare at Chester while shaking the bundle of papers in his hand.
“You’re late. I called you in a half-hour ago. What took so damn long?” he demanded.
“My blinker is out. Had to get here only taking right turns. I can’t afford another ticket,” Chester snarked.
Berry barked a short laugh. “Okay, funny guy. You need to be on lease in an hour. It's the same one as last Tuesday. Remember?”
Chester nodded and blocked a yawn with his fist. “What is it this time?”
“Nothing onerous. They need the lease cleaned out, so we can get a mechanic in there this morning. The consultant said this storm buried the shacks. I ran the skid-steer and made sure the slips were full on the trailer. You’re set to go. Here,” Berry explained, handing him the stack of papers.
Chester took them and confirmed they were the work order and consultant's papers.
“Alright Boss, see you never,” Chester joked as he checked the door open with his shoulder and stepped back into the gonad-puckering storm outside.
“If your light’s really out, make sure the trailer’s works before you go. If it doesn’t, take the shop truck,” Berry yelled after him as the door crashed shut.
Chester cracked the door to give his boss a friendly middle finger before leaving again.
His fingers grew cold and stiff through his thick winter gloves before he got the gooseneck hooked up and pulled out of the yard.
Turning into the local cardlock, he stuck the nozzle into his slip-tank before heading to the convenience store next door.
“Hey, Stace,” he greeted the girl bent over a tablet behind the counter with a broad smile and a wave as he entered and made for the back and the frozen burritos.
“Chester,” she said glancing up before returning her focus to her tablet and her quickly moving stylus.
“Roy still riding your ass about last week?” he asked her while waiting for the burrito to heat in the microwave.
“Now there’s an image I could do without,” she said with a shudder. “But no. Thankfully he left on holiday. I'm hoping he forgets the whole thing before he gets back.”
“Well if you need me to set him straight, just let me know. It won’t cost you much,” Chester said.
“Cost me, will it?” she asked, giving him a slow and exaggerated up and down before raising an eyebrow.
Chester barked a nervous laugh before waving her off. “Naw, nothing like that. Maybe just that wonderful smile of yours." He paused as though to think. "Although, I wouldn’t object if you’re looking for a little fun." He waggled his eyebrows.
“You know I don’t go for players like you Chester.” She scoffed but broke into a striking smile that transformed the girl next door into something truly enchanting.
It's a shame she rarely smiles, I wonder what her laugh sounds like, Chester thought.
He opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the ding of the microwave. He lifted a finger to stall the conversation, popped the door, grabbed the burrito, and played hot potato with it on his way to the counter.
“Seriously, if he’s still mad when he gets back, let me know and I’ll talk to him. He has no right demanding you stand up to crackheads for a few hundred dollars. You were right to run,” Chester said soberly, opening the nearby cooler to remove two Saskatoon berry energy drinks.
“I know, my uncle said the same thing,” Stace said with a sigh, hugging herself before taking his money and handing him the change.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment while Chester thought of something else to say.
“Sorry, but I gotta jet, or Berry will be on my ass. You stay safe,” he gave her a reassuring smile and tipped an imaginary hat before shouldering the door open.
“I meant what I said,” he added as the door closed behind him.
He caught her parting smile through the window as he hurried back to his truck with a matching smile on his face. I got her to smile again. Next step, is a laugh.
He hopped and clicked his heels together, almost falling on his ass on a patch of ice.
He chuckled at himself. Maybe one day she’ll let me take her out. If I can stop looking like an idiot around her, he thought wistfully.
Chester's smile remained as he finished fueling up and hopped into the truck. He put his drinks in the cupholders and began working his way through the burrito.
With breakfast in hand, he pulled out of the card lock and made his way out of the deserted town and onto the freeway.
Without buildings to cut down the ferocity of the storm, visibility on the highway had been cut to less than a quarter of that inside the town limits, forcing Chester to switch to his fog lights. They highlighted the drifts and killed the blinding glare from the thick snow.
With a sigh and another yawn, he finished the burrito and started sipping an energy drink, the acidic smell tickling his nose.
He switched the radio to a nineties channel and ‘Let’s talk about sex baby’ started, interrupted by odd bouts of static. He belted out the lyrics anyway with a huge grin on his face. Damn, life ain’t bad sometimes.
Chester's mood lifted completely from its earlier melancholy as he cruised down the empty highway at 120km/h; the weight of the trailer and equipment behind him letting him blast through the snowdrifts with brief moments of speed-reducing resistance that drew him forward against his seatbelt.
He pulled off the bright orange cap and flipped it onto the dash, running a hand through his hair.
Frowning, he flipped the visor down and its lights illuminated the cab so he could fix his matted locks.
"You need a haircut, you handsome fella," he told his reflection with a wide smile then ran his fingers through his hair one last time before flipping the visor back up.
Chester sang loudly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel while he drove before turning off onto a gravel road. His tires crunched through the snow and shot gravel as they spun back up to speed.
The Hip’s: Boots or Hearts came on when he switched channels again, and he sang the old favorite with gusto, bobbing his head along to the beat.
With a smile plastered on his face Chester only caught a brief glimpse of a massive head and antlers, highlighted against the white of the snow for a heart-stopping instant before the world became rending metal, tinkling glass, and deployed airbags.
A crushing weight settled in his lap.
“Freya’s tits!” he wheezed out with bubbles of blood. The unusual curse, one he and Kira had taken to using as young children, were his last words before the cab filled with snow and blackness engulfed his world.
_____
“SOOO, bored. Worst B-day ever.” A voice ignited Chester's consciousness followed by clinging nothingness for an indefinite period.
It wasn't blackness but a simple lack of form.
“Oh, what's this? Hmmm. My, you’re an interesting one, aren’t you, Chester Stewart?” a melodious voice caressed his entire being, making it stutter and infusing him with the scent of lilacs. He tried to find a source for the voice but it appeared he lacked the senses.
“Right, wait one,” the voice said. He could hear the raised finger in her tone. “There, that should work.”
At first, nothing happened. Then a pinhead of calming light appeared, approaching to fill his restored vision. In moments it engulfed him and he found himself kneeling in a lavish garden filled with brilliantly colored flowers. Lilacs, roses, and lilies of every sort, with countless other flowers Chester would be at a loss to identify, abounded. All artfully arranged around exquisite statuary of frolicking naked men and women. Most were frozen in the midst of one lewd act or another.
The sight held Chester's rapt attention for a full minute before his gaze fell on the garden's one living creature and the source of the voice.
And what a sight. Chester tried to think of a model or actress, hell porn star, that could hold a candle to her sheer presence but came up blank.
Freya's sweet sex, she’s not even trying.
“Not exactly a warrior's death, but he was hunting it a few weeks ago. Still..." she hummed out loud to herself while tapping her delicate chin with a finger. "I wonder...”
The capital G, Goddess of perfection was lying sideways across a large elegant throne of woven branches. Her shapely legs hung over the armrest on one side, her head upside down over the other, with her golden locks creating a shimmering pool on the floor.
The scents of lilacs and lavender permeated the place.
Her unfocused eyes were staring at him where he’d appeared kneeling in the small circle of white and gold tiled floor that surrounded her throne.
He stared back, at a complete loss for words.
“Atheist, but likes to curse, I mean, worship, in my name." She made a fist and raised a single finger. "Died with my name on his lips." She raised the second. "Never properly followed another deity or religion." Another raised finger. "It’s Friday; my day." A fourth finger. "Killed by a creature he was hunting... technically." She snapped her thumb out. "And it’s my birthday." She turned the hand back into a fist.
Chester decided to remain quiet.
"Yeah, this could work." She nodded firmly. Making her head thump the tiles in the process.
"Bastards won't let me give him any boons though, and the transfer will cost him. So will the healing. Hmm, maybe If he gives up more. Could always try... Yeah, it wouldn’t even be hard, he’s attractive enough already. Might work in some bonuses that way too," she mused. "Yup, totally worth the risk."
What is going on? Chester felt a kernel of dread building in his belly.
Oh damn, could this be Freya? The unease built further with the idea. I’m an idiot... He was only half paying attention to her rambling now as his thoughts spiraled. Then his sight caught on her magnificent chest, making his thoughts screech to a halt for a moment before he jerked his gaze away.
“They're great aren't they?" she said in an amused tone while arching her back to thrust her chest a little higher and emphasize her breasts.
The joke broke Chester from his thoughts and he barked a laugh, then sighed with another realization. This is too absurd to be real.
“Of course! You’re reading my thoughts. This is a fever dream. So, you ‘would’ know what I know,” he reasoned, rolling his eyes.
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong. You're not dead yet, I caught you in the moment between,” she said, pointing an elegant finger at him for emphasis.
Could still be a dream.
“Look, Lady,” Chester started, before she shook her finger back and forth, shushing him.
“It’s Freya, as you deduced. Now, shut up and listen. We don’t have much time.” She gave him a significant look, waiting for confirmation. The effect was slightly ruined by her looking at him upside down.
He nodded and zipped his lips closed with his thumb and forefinger. Might as well play this out. No one ever said lucid dreams were so vibrant. I've been missing out.
“Great. Now, I’ll explain, at least a little. My power is diminishing here on Earth and I have fewer true believers every year. I’ve been looking for a way to address this. That's where rare individuals like you come in. The requirements for using living mortals are quite stringent. Lucky for me, you seem to fit the bill and I believe I can use you as my agent.
"I need someone to explore a..." she shook her hand from side to side. "A world and develop a new following for me. Astra's veil is finally close enough to be punctured and let me drop in an agent or two. Though I wish the weakness wasn't in Canada of all places. Believers of any sort are thin on the ground where you live." She waved off her own rambling then paused to recollect herself before focusing on Chester again.
"If you're willing, I would like to send you. Now, I’ll warn you if you refuse you will likely die. You have maybe a handful of minutes before you bleed out. You'll ascend to Fólkvangr in this eventually. It’s the least I can do for your faithfulness, intended or not,” Freya explained.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
"As a start, I'll offer you an Astrian year to directly or indirectly convert at least twenty individuals to acknowledge me as well as allow me to see the world through your eyes. In exchange, I'll give you all the help I can manage. The more followers you gather the better I'll be able to assist you. I will expect a steady supply. Sound fair?" Freya gave him a beaming smile.
Chester took a moment to let that sink in then shrugged. “Fine, on the off chance, this isn’t a dream, I would rather not be dead. I'll be your agent,” he said trying his best to return the smile. Twenty doesn't sound like that many. Though she'll want more in the future.
“A disclaimer before we start. I may have to do more than we agree, to make this work. Maybe change your race, your age, or worst-case your sex to sneak you past the local Astrain Gods. The less to tie you to your past the better. I'll make it up to you as best I can if the need arises,” she amended. “Are you fine with that? Fólkvangr is still an option.”
Chester thought for a long moment before responding. None of that sounds too bad, I guess.
“I think I’d prefer to live no matter what,” he said honestly.
“Perfect! Now for the ‘nitty-gritty’.” She smiled at him.
“Astra has a strange inheritance system governing it that largely dictates social standing in most of the cultures you'll encounter. I will help you with it where I can. The local magic, set up by their elder gods, should let me give you a good chance to survive and possibly an edge."
Magic? Chester wondered.
"It all hinges on what you're willing to sacrifice. You’ll have to give up something you value about yourself to power any ability or gift you receive on Astra. The more you value a sacrificed trait or skill the more it’s worth. Power is never free, and I have none to spare for this beyond what it took to bring you here.
"I’ll need at least one moderate sacrifice for the transfer rift, and another to heal your mangled body. Every other sacrifice will allow me to help you in some way.
"You should take the first choice as it could help me appease the deities of Astra if they make a stink down the road.
"I recommend you keep your destination in mind. I'll drop you somewhere that’ll be relatively safe for a few days so you have the time to adjust, just don’t go jumping down any holes,” Freya explained.
As she finished, a large chart popped up filling Chester’s vision.
#
Sacrifice
Value
1
All your knowledge on the production and use of guns and their ammunition
Moderate
2
Your ability to dance
Low
3
Mechanical skills
Low
4
Electrical skills
Low
5
Plumbing skills
Low
6
Outdoor survival, hunting, and camping skills
Moderately low
7
Driving and maintaining heavy equipment
Moderate
8
Ice skating, skateboarding, snowboarding, cycling, and other sports
Moderate
9
Your skill with computers
Moderate
10
Your skill at drafting
Moderate
11
Your skill at Knitting and Crochet (You're a man of surprising depth.)
Moderately high
12
Your ability to play the guitar
High
13
Your ability to play the piano
High
14
Your ability to sing and remember lyrics
High
15
Construction knowledge and skill
High
After a few minutes of deliberation Chester spoke, “Alright, I'll do what you asked and ditch number 1, as well as 4, 7, and 9. Might as well get as much help as I can."
Freya raised an eyebrow at him and clapped her hands. “Fantastic!”
Choices 1, 4, 7, and 9 are confirmed.
Wait! I should’ve kept 4, he thought before darkness took him.
“I’ll have to be super nice to him. I’m not sure if this will work without more,” Freya muttered and blew a raspberry.
----------------------------------------
Chester groaned and held his stomach against a rolling cramp then brushed the hair from his face, pulling soggy lengths from his mouth, spitting to get the last silken bits out.
What the hell happened last night? This girl’s hair tastes foul. I must’ve drunk more than I thought.
His bloody scalp and ears itched and he grabbed some of the wavey lengths, studying them blearily as a distraction. Auburn, huh, no one comes to mind.
Freya’s tits! He suppressed a groan as his neck spasmined making his whole face ache.
His teeth hurt, and they felt loose when he ran his tongue along them.
His first though when the pain subsided was: Oh shit, I’ll have to do the "what’s-your-name?' dance. Freya I hope she's not a local. I'll never live this down. Please, Lord, tell me I used protection.
He groaned again, this time because his eyes throbbed so bad he feared his brains might leak out as his alcohol-fueled dehydration sunk in.
He lay in misery for long minutes, trying to remember his night but the new pile-driving spike in his head wasn’t divulging any secrets.
He put off moving the weight from his chest and disturbing the pleasant warmth next to him, choosing to slump bonelessly instead and bemoan his situation.
When a breeze dimpled his skin with goosebumps he wrestled up the energy to flail around with his free hand in search of the covers. Not finding any after a moment, he sighed and gave up. I must've knocked them off. He returned to his slump and focused on the ceiling.
Stone with many uneven protrusions covered in a white chalky substance dominated the surface.
Chester frowned.
This girl is strange, her bedroom ceiling looks like a climbers wet dream. Must be fit and driven, good job Chesty; she might be a keeper, he decided. If you can remember her blasted name.
He’d found in the past that if he gave in and stared at a girl they’d invariably wake. He didn’t want to risk that. Not until he remembered what happened the night before and hopefully her name. That is if he’d even asked for it in the first place.
You're a special kind of asshole, Chester, he decided when he continued to draw a blank.
He ignored the silky warmth next to him and forced himself to concentrate on walking through his evening again from the start.
When the spike went from a pile driver to Gramp's chisel knocking out large chunks of wood he groaned deeper, he spent a minute gasping for air before regaining focus again.
The last thing he could even vaguely remember was learning to play a new tune on his guitar. The new Lumineers tune. This is sad, I can't even remember its name.
Pressure started building in his bowels then. It felt like he needed to take the biggest crap ever, but different. Then a massive cramp tightened his abdominals before releasing with a sensation much like the rush of blood after someone gives you a snakebite on the arm.
It felt like a heavyweight boxer trying to extract his privates by pounding on his crotch and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish in an attempt to stop the bile from rising in his throat.
Freya’s tits, what did I get into last night! He pressed his free hand hard into his stomach to combat the pounding cramps.
A little wetness trickled against his thigh. Did I just piss myself? What the actual fuck?
He groaned again, his head throbbing before a wave of euphoria washed through him taking much of the agony but leaving the odd cramp.
The world froze for a moment.
Then his vision filled with windows.
Congratulation!
Welcome to your Awakening Day!
Chester? Chester? You there? I hope this works!
Well, I hope it's you and not some rando. That could cause problems.
Freya here, but you probably figured that out already.
I would like to thank you for agreeing to this endeavor. I hope you bring me all kinds of information and followers.
I’ve had to make some unplanned changes to sneak you by the local gods like we discussed but don’t worry. I did what I could to smooth the transition and worked out a relatively safe place to drop you off. I had to work you closer to my aspects and use local materials for your body, the transition left you less…
Anyway, other than the boons you've already traded for. I'm limited to this capacity until I develop stronger roots in Astra.
On a positive note: due to your sacrifices and...other changes, I’m able to bestow my blessing on you. You’re a braver person than I took you for! I even managed to make you younger to facilitate a more natural induction to the system.
“What the hell do you mean, 'agreed to'? What sacrifices? What changes?” he complained then stopped short.
His voice sounded wrong.
Really wrong.
Before he had time to confront that baffling discovery, another window overtook his vision.
The ability to reproduce is both an exciting and stressful time in every young person's life.
It is a time of choice and uncertainty but also, of excitement for life and the responsibilities of adulthood.
Most parents teach children what to expect from these choices. They also go through extensive training to better their options, if they can afford it. I’ll do the best I can to help. Although, there are some parallels to role-playing games from your world. So, it may be easier than you may think. You’ll see your boons included in the chart; including a couple of the local languages and my blessing, of course.
Freya
Your gains to date.
Name: Chester Stewart
Age: 18
Race: Half Wood-Elf/Half-Human
Sex: Female
Level: 1
Unspent stats: 1
Exp: 0/10,000
Class:
Subclass:
Profession 1 Carpenter: High Apprentice
Profession 2 Bard: Mid Apprentice
Stats
Strength
14 (2)
Dexterity
18 (4)
Agility
17 (3)
Constitution
13 (1)
Willpower
14 (2)
Mind
15 (2)
Charisma
21 (5)
Perception
14 (2)
Faith
14 (2)
Luck
13(1)
Pyth and Gems: 0/4 Slots filled. 0/4 heritage slots filled.
Freya’s Blessing. +4 Char, +2 Agi, +2 Dex. Increased Fertility and +3 Animal handling: Cats
Skills
Framing Const.
30
Singing
26
Woodworking
18
Instrument: Piano
28
Instrument: Guitar
20
Aqueduct Const.
16
Knitting/Weaving
20
Dodge
4
First-aid
12
Perform
16
Language: English
31
Language: Brastian
24
Metallurgy
10
Swimming
10
Instrument: Bass
10
Dance
10
Archery
10
Writing: English
18
Hunting/Gathering
8
Survival
6
Steam Forging
6
Lumberjack
14
Animal handling: Cats
3
Running
6
Whistling
6
Instrument: Harmonica
2
Climbing
2
Math
24
Plastering
16
Healing
2
Language: Wood Elf
8
Drafting
12
Tinkering
12
Chemistry
6
Mana vision
2
Massage
10
Instrument: Percussion
4
Skinning
6
Daggers
2
Herbology
4
Foundation Const.
24
Writing: Brastian
14
Calculating Heirloom Pyth, Cores, and Gems to help determine Class Selection.
Right, I have three for you. The neat thing here is that heirloom bonds don’t take up a regular slot and you can have 4 of them. Ah, there we go. Be careful in the future, unbinding destroys the Pyth or gems. Leaving Heirlooms to your children or grandchildren is the only exception. Though there might be an exploit there somewhere. I’m starting to find this system interesting.
Inventory Pyth: allows the storage of up to Rank x Mind(mod) feet cubed. Takes 1 minute-Mind to retrieve items, and 1 minute-Mind-attribute seconds to store one.
Uncommon
Rank 1
Summon Musical Instrument Pyth: Allows the summoning of a magical replica of a musical instrument the user is intimately familiar with. 1 x Charisma (Mod)/Day, lasts 1 hour + 10*char(mod)minutes
Uncommon
Rank 2
Wooden Gem: Allows free manipulation and adjustment of deadwood at a rate of Rank feet cubed a Minute x Charisma(mod). For (2 x Rank) x Charisma(mod) minutes every 4hrs.
Passive 1: receive Rank x Charisma (mod) percent of daily required sustenance from the sun. Max 50% [Current 24%]
Passive 2: allows a detailed perception of the interior properties of the wood that you are working on with the Gem's magic. Including flaws, density, structure, and moisture content. Accuracy improves with rank.
Rare
Rank 4
Chester stared at the stats and skills window for what felt like forever in utter confusion. It seemed like a crude attempt to sum up his life in a chart that barely filled his vision. It was depressing. A few interpretations made him chuckle, like Aqueduct construction. And what’s with Charisma? I know I’m a good-looking guy, but that’s absurd if strength is accurate.
It was only on his third read-through that his heart stopped cold in dread. Wood elf? FEMALE?!
As the thought registered, the chart closed, and another opened. It blinked insistently before stopping with a note from Freya.
Reading the Pyth and Gem info confused him at first until it dawned on him that they were a type of magic! Holy balls it's like a video game. Wait, go back, forget about that! What does it mean, female? How do I make this fucking thing close!?! Make it go away!
In response to his thoughts, it closed. Only for another set to open immediately, once more demanding his attention.
Now that you have Bonded your Heirloom Gems and Pyth you have a choice of the following classes. Choose carefully, your decision stays with you for life.
The abbreviations in brackets indicate the rarity of the resulting Synergistic skills. In order: Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Unique, Legendary, Mythic. You’re welcome for this addition. The bastards like to keep simple information hidden.
Freya.
He was having a hard time concentrating on what were huge life decisions. Panic to get the window closed so he could confirm he was still intact was overwhelming. But, as one window closed, another one would open.
Reading the first three available classes revealed that his hopes were a dead thing.
Ladies-Maid
Synergy with Common (Un), Repair (Co), Tailoring (Co), and Household (Ra) Pyth and Gems
+Cooking, cleaning, hiding, skill growth
Barmaid
Synergy with Household (Co), Service (Un), and Free-movement (Un) Pyth and Gems.
+Cleaning, serving, Performing skill growth
Escort
Synergy with Sex (Ra), Pleasure (Un), and Social (Un) Pyth and Gems.
+Perform, Dance, and Music skill growth
Peasant
Synergy with Harvest (Un), Plant (Co), and Animal (Co) Pyth and Gems.
+Animal handling and agriculture skill growth
Hunter/Trapper
Synergy with Animal (Un), Trap (Un), and Archery (Un) Pyth and Gems.
+AH, trapping, archery skill growth
Steam smith
Crafting Synergy with Air (Un), Heat (Ra), and Metal (Un) Pyth and Gems
+All Smith skill growth
Scribe
Synergy with Speed (Co), Sorting (Un), and Ink (Ra) Pyth and Gems.
+ All language and research skill growth
Pugilist
Synergy with Unarmed-Martial (Ra), Speed (Co), and Dodge (Un) Pyth and Gems.
+Unarmed combat and Dance skill growth
Engineer
Crafting Synergy with Earth (Ra) and Stone (Ra) movement Pyth and Gems.
+Math and construction skill growth
Plant bender
Synergy with Plant (Ep), Growth (Ra), Dirt (Un), and Wood (Co) Pyth and Gems.
+Agriculture, alchemy, and botany skill growth
Builder
Synergy with Deadwood (Ra), Stone (Un), and Dead-plant (Un) aspect, Pyth and Gems.
+Math and construction skill growth
Minstrel
Synergy with Musical (Ld), Wood (Un), Sound (Ra), Dance (Un), Social (Co), and Performance (Un) aspect, Pyth and Gems.
+Composition, all instruments, Dance, Perform, and singing skill growth
Cleric
Synergy with Faith (Uni) plus 2 deity aspect aligned Pyth and Gems (Mine are Sex/Fertility (Ep) and Death (Ra).)
+Perform, Dance, service, healing skill growth
The chart likely didn’t mess up, he lamented despondently then started laughing hysterically. It sunk in then, that he was being offered a prostitution class, and the absurdity overwhelmed him.
“I can be a Whore!” he giggled. Not chuckled, giggled. Which brought him up short. That was... Oh god, I’m sooo fucked.
Please confirm the Choice of Escort.
“WAIT! Fuck no. Close that thing. That’s a hell’s, to the NO!” he shouted at the box trying to wave it away frantically. Finally sitting up, the weight on his chest shifted and he froze.