by Tao Wong
Anyway, the point is that the estimate I received was that I should see an evolution at nine Class Skill points. The most likely evolution path—at 43.87%—would be the simplest, a more powerful Penetration ability that sent a portion of the damage through, no matter the defense. The second most likely option—at 37.34%—was a corrosive Penetrative effect, one that basically did damage over time to the defense.
All this information is great and all, and if it’s true, it puts me real close to seeing a more powerful Penetrative Skill. Unfortunately, between what the Rune Reader et al were up to and the fact that the Actuary had a very small dataset to pull from—and one that was particularly homogenous, unlike myself—there’s a 62.183% chance that the evolution I’ll actually see is nothing like what they’ve recommended.
When you’ve got a small sample size and the majority of those have decided to do quite similar builds, the unexpected nature of the evolutions is a risk. But it’s still better than nothing, which is pretty much what I received from the Classes that looked toward the future. They’d just stared at me and shook their heads, muttering something about clouded futures. A little digging brought up the fact that this was happening all over the damn Galaxy as the introduction of a Dungeon World made forecasts for the future extremely turbulent. Adding a large number of fast Leveling Classes to the Galaxy has a tendency to do that. Of course, some people believe that part of the reason they have problems predicting the future is due to the conflicting information sources provided to them via Classes who don’t want the future to be known and the System’s own, intrinsic inability to tell the future.
All of that is to say, I might or might not get a Skill Evolution the next time I throw a point in. Which is part of the reason I’ve been holding off till I have a few hours of uninterrupted and safe time. Like now.
But before I do that, the biggest thing I want to do is figure out what to do about my attributes. While the new Penetration evolution could provide me a huge Skill-up, allowing me to do some real nasty damage, I’ve also recently received a rather clear indication that my lack of specialization is making me lag behind some of the other Master Classes. Oh, when I know what I’m in for or if I’m fighting non-prestige Classes, my attribute points are close enough that I can hold my own. But against someone like Bolo—the one-percenters—I’m coming up short. Not only have the majority of individuals with those Classes received the benefit of a lot of training through their progression, they’ve also gotten advice and, often, the luxury of specializing.
It’s frustrating that I’ve not been able to specialize. Oh, it’s true that I’ve chosen to not do so. I’ve spread my Skill points around a little more than I should, trying to do a little bit of everything. If I wasn’t such a surly bastard, I could have worked with others, made sure I had people to back me up, protect my back. Even now, my party leans toward a hell of a lot of “punch you in the face” and not a lot of flexibility outside of that. It’s not as if we have a Drone Commander, able to build and command thousands of mechanical drones, or a dedicated Elementalist, able to conjure demons from another plane. Or a Necro Lord. Never mind that one. I hate Necro Lords. Who thinks it’s a good idea to hang around rotting bodies all day?
But I could have made different choices. Been better. Yet all that regret is kind of wasted effort. Humanity has this amazing ability to play “what if,” as if the best option would have played out every time. Yet we don’t know that. In fact, it’s just as likely that something worse could have happened. I don’t know how many times I’ve survived by the skin of my teeth in a fight because I had the Body’s Resolve. Or because I had an extra point in my Soul Shield. I’ve saved lives with Sanctum, and I’ve kept my allies alive by sharing the pain with them. I’ve located people with Greater Detection that, these days, are high contributing members of society and others who are much better off not part of it.
That’s life, really. We can go “what if” all we want, but it’s worth remembering that things could have been a lot worse. Perhaps not immediately, not in the way you’d think, but down the road, fortune could easily turn. Fate is fickle and not to be trifled with.
Still, I’m human and that frustration is real. All I can do is make the best of what I can now and use what Credits I have to shore up my weaknesses, knowing that people like Bolo will always be a step ahead. That’s kind of okay, since I have an advantage he’ll never have—I know what it’s like to really struggle, to be down to the last few health points, bleeding and wheezing, nerves on fire, and still not be willing to give up.
Foxy coughs, pulling me back from my thoughts. “Redeemer?”
“Sorry. Just thinking. Contemplating my attribute allocation.”
“Ah, you have a mixed direct combat and magic build, do you not?”
“I do. I can hit most things I swing at, but I’ve got a relatively high Intelligence and decent regen.” In fact, the majority of Galactics dump a significant portion of their free attributes into Intelligence, even when it’s not part of their Class stat allocation, since a large number of Skills and spells require Mana. Can’t do much if you have no Mana to feed the Skills.
It’s another reason why my high attributes are a huge advantage—when you have, say, two free points and you’ve got to dedicate them to Intelligence to increase your Mana Pool every other Level, Prestige Classes can pull ahead with ease. Of course, that raises another question of why there’s differentiation in Classes at all—why not give everyone the same Class or the same amount of Intelligence? It can’t be a case of suitability, since Class selection, especially when a new world is introduced to the Galactic System, is by choice. It’s not as if the System is analyzing us and going “you are more suited for X Class; you can only handle five attributes a Level.” We are making the decision and living with the consequences.
Admittedly, there are records of when those decisions go wrong. Just because it can be done doesn’t mean every individual should take a Prestige Class. Mana overcharge can happen. Mutations and warping of individuals due to an inability to handle the additional Mana flow is not unknown. Having too high Intelligence but not enough Willpower is a known danger. Over-balancing one particular “trait” is another. But like so much with the System, there’s no guaranteed over-balanced threshold.
Even if you assume there are individual and racial limits to the kind of imbalance and even Level that an individual can attain—and the records and studies on this are highly conflicted—it still doesn’t explain why the System allows people to choose Classes that are entirely unsuited for them. A bad coding error? A mistaken belief that free will is important, even if the result is suboptimal? Those are some of the questions that plague Questors like me, and thus far, there’s still no clear winner.
“Not uncommon among Paladins. Though some have been more Charisma-focused solution-makers, most have gone down the route of ensuring their dictates can be backed up.” I grunt at Foxy, who flashes me a needle-filled mouth. “Are you finding yourself short of Mana during battles?”
I consider Foxy’s point. After a moment, I shake my head. “Not much. Might be a problem in the coming fight, but I’ve got decent burst damage. The Penetration Skill helps a lot—I can do a lot more damage than most with even my basic attacks.”
“True,” Foxy says. “And you have not used your Aura or other champion Skills much.”
“Not much call for it.”
“Not the way you fight, no.” Foxy shrugs. “If you have trouble allocating, it is often recommended to focus on survival.”
“Constitution.”
“And Intelligence.”
With Shield Skills, that makes sense. Throwing up another Soul Shield can often be more efficient at keeping me alive than tanking another hit—though that depends on the kind of attack, my current armor and resistances, and their penetration abilities. Still, more Mana gives me more options in a fight—I just have to have the time to use it all.
“Done. And done.”
&nbs
p; Once I split my attributes, I take a look at the changed Status Screen, letting my eyes drift to the paltry amount of Credits I have left after paying for repairs to the ship. As much as I might want to argue with Dornalor about who should be paying for what, and to whine about the increased Credit cost since the war started, having a functioning ship is the most important thing right now.
Status Screen
Name
John Lee
Class
Erethran Paladin
Race
Human (Male)
Level
38
Titles
Monster’s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,
Corrupt Questor
Health
4520
Stamina
4520
Mana
4160
Mana Regeneration
357 (+5) / minute
Attributes
Strength
304
Agility
394
Constitution
452
Perception
234
Intelligence
416
Willpower
447
Charisma
172
Luck
92
Class Skills
Mana Imbue
3*
Blade Strike*
5
Thousand Steps
1
Altered Space
2
Two are One
1
The Body’s Resolve
3
Greater Detection
1
A Thousand Blades*
3
Soul Shield
4
Blink Step
2
Portal*
5
Army of One
4
Sanctum
2
Penetration
7
Aura of Chivalry
1
Eyes of Insight
1
Beacon of the Angels
2
Eye of the Storm
1
Vanguard of the Apocalypse
2
Society’s Web
1
External Class Skills
Instantaneous Inventory
1
Frenzy
1
Cleave
2
Tech Link
2
Elemental Strike
1 (Ice)
Shrunken Footsteps
1
Analyze
2
Harden
2
Quantum Lock
3
Elastic Skin
3
Disengage Safeties
2
Temporary Forced Link
1
Hyperspace Nitro Boost
1
On the Edge
1
Combat Spells
Improved Minor Healing (IV)
Greater Regeneration (II)
Greater Healing (II)
Mana Drip (II)
Improved Mana Missile (IV)
Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)
Firestorm
Polar Zone
Freezing Blade
Improved Inferno Strike (II)
Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)
Ice Blast
Icestorm
Improved Invisibility
Improved Mana Cage
Improved Flight
Haste
Enhanced Particle Ray
I briefly consider buying another Thousand Blades. While getting a single extra blade isn’t that useful, the additional three blades when triggering Army of One adds a decent chunk of damage. On the other hand, having an extra blade floating around me when fighting increases the complexity significantly. It’s why I’ve held off on picking up more blades, because the training time to handle the additional blade while fighting is significant. Running into my own blade in a fight is painful, to say the least.
Other than that, there’s not much I can buy without affecting my Mana Regeneration—a non-starter considering we’re likely going into a long, drawn-out fight. I take a deep breath and focus. A few seconds later, the Class Skill point is allocated without an issue. I let out a breath that I barely recognize I’m holding, disappointed that nothing happened. Well, that was a waste of Credits. It also means I’m unlikely to see the Skill Evolution in this fight.
Chapter 17
Walking out of the private room in the Shop, I’m surprised to see that I have a visitor. If it was a tall, dark, and rather handsome Truinnar visitor, I’d be more than happy but, in this case, it’s one I truly did not expect. Standing before me is the Librarian, still dressed in his suit and clashing heavily with the yellow décor.
“Ah, the Questor I was looking for,” the Librarian says with a smile.
“What?” I cock my head, my eyes widening slightly as the creature glides forward within feet of me. I automatically step back, a hand rising to put space between us. Not that I’m worried—the Shop I’m in would not stand for violence. Any violence would result in automatic teleportation out and the initiator being banned from the premises. Or at least from being in the same location as another customer.
“Just a small thing.” The Librarian’s hand moves with a gentle implacability.
Automatically, I lean backward, my head turning to the side as my hand moves to intercept his. It’s not rational, it’s all instinct—hard-coded instinct to stop potential threats from touching me. It’s all the faster because of that, but it doesn’t matter. Not one bit. No matter how fast I’m moving, no matter how efficient my actions are, the hand fills my vision, refusing to be swayed. It’s like the coming of old age—always guaranteed, impossible to avoid, no matter what we do.
A thumb touches the middle of my forehead, resting on my glabella, the other all-too-long fingers wrapping around to envelop the rest of my head. A part of me notes that his fingers are dry and freezing—just before a river of fire floods into my brain. My mind, already thoroughly abused by the System, is taking another beating as information, torrents of information, floods in. Everything I ever wanted to know, everything I ever intended to ask and read about, enters my brain like a shaken soda can through a pinhole.
Questions, answers, stupid inane studies, and profound dissertations on the System all arrive. I get videos of some of the grossest, most disgusting experiments that have ever been conducted to understand the nature of the System and the most basic lectures given to children. In the end, it’s all data, unsorted information, none of it explained but all of it provided to me in a tidal wave of videos, text, holograms, scents, and other sensory information. It comes unpacked and in full detail, notifications flashing on and on and on even as I struggle to stay afloat in the sea of pain and data. The headache becomes a migraine which transforms into a herd of elephants doing the Viennese waltz in my head. Even through my rather ridiculous resistances, my natural stubbornness propped up by the System’s Willpower adjustments, I can feel the tendrils of my shaky sanity coming apart.
When it feels like I’m done, when I can’t handle any more, the data in my mind packs itself away, shrinking down from its unspooled format into compact nuggets of information. Answers that I’m desperate to find are hidden again, conclusions that I’m just beginning to reach as I see the links between information disappear. Data is compressed, the library shoved into the corners of my mind. More compressed data gets thrown onto it, the attic of my mind growing as cluttered as a ninety-year-old hoarder’s living room. It helps, it helps a lot, because the data doesn’t stop. It just keeps flooding in, taking an eternity in subjective time and seconds in reality.
“What is going on here?” Foxy snarls, appearing beside us.
Too lat
e. All too late.
I find myself pressed against the closed doorway I recently exited, my eyes wide and focused on the Librarian and the ghosts of studies past. The Librarian returns my gaze, smiling with that creepy, too toothy mouth and big, wide grey eyes. Eyes that I suddenly recall seeing in all too many studies, staring down mercilessly at research subjects.
“I was but providing the Questor a gift.”
As if on cue, a new Status Notification pops up.
Title Gained: Living Repository (System Research)
You are a walking repository of knowledge. Whether through choice, fate, or destiny, you are a living repository of knowledge for a specific branch of information. Your life or death may be desired by others for the information you hold. This Title may be gained multiple times for multiple forms of knowledge.
Effect: +250% Resistance to Skills and spells that invade and require access to Title holders mind. This includes Possession, Mental Invasion, Mental Links, etc.
Note: This title may be hidden.
System Quest Updated. Experience Gained
