by Tao Wong
Now, it is clear that certain unique Classes, like the Shopper and Greed Pig, may set aside these personal requirements, as the foundation of these Classes lies in the acquisition of Skills and groups. But in this researcher’s opinion, these very same Classes reinforce his hypotheses.
This research strongly disputes the prevailing belief that the current block on Skill evolution comes from a System edict to ‘level the playing field.’ It is clear, in this researcher’s mind, that such an edict would be lifted on a case-by-case basis for interested and powerful parties. That we do not see such edicts is not proof that our Council members are above such petty power plays but that there is no such edict.
In terms of the increased power from a Skill evolution, further research should be conducted. But it is clear from the provided data sets that a minimum increase of two, to a maximum increase of ten, times the strength of the Skill can be seen. The volume and variety of these Skill evolutions can be seen as…”
I grunt, letting the book disappear. Sometimes I get really annoyed by how some of these researchers write, but information like this is important. And it’s clear, as I eye my increase in experience, that this researcher has some truth to his assertions. Of course, my experience also increased the last time I read a document asserting the opposite. So what, if any, of the entire article is true, I’m not sure.
Pushing the thought aside, I check out the other notification that just showed up. Yay. Another addition to the immigrant list. I’m a little concerned that my quest numbers are creeping up so slowly. Even if Oria has opened the buildings to Katherine—allowing her to lease but not buy the space—I cannot dismiss the fear that she’ll pull back on the invitation if we can’t get more immigrants. Our problem isn’t so much convincing those who show up to commit but convincing newer people. No matter how many speeches I give, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. There just aren’t enough people showing up to those meetings.
On the other hand, I can’t help but appreciate Draco’s quest. Training with the two Adventurer teams has been extremely useful. While I curb-stomped the second team when we first met, they’ve been the fastest to adapt to my techniques.
The Immortal Joes are a pure range combat team, with members all rifle, bow, or mage wielders. Together, they put out such a high output of firepower that they manage to take down most threats long before they close in. It helps, of course, that they’ve secured a variety of Skills like Dimension Lock, Sticky Floor, Surface Tension Decrease, and Web. In our first battle, their tactics were stupidly simple. They attempted to keep me from closing while hunkering down behind impromptu field defenses. What they didn’t expect was for me to get grumpy after falling on my ass for the second time and spam Beacon of the Angels till all their defensive measures failed. Since then, we’ve switched things up and have included terrain. Once that happened, closing in on the Joes has become significantly more difficult.
Both teams have upped their Dimension Lock capabilities to the extent that it costs significantly more Mana and health for me to Blink Step or Portal to them. At best, I can only use either movement spell twice before things end. They’ve also started dealing with my grenades, throwing up targeted force fields or using portable slime eaters to remove my toys.
Overall, our fights have taken on a seesaw property where we figure out new ways of dealing with one another and enact that plan, gaining an advantage until the other party figures out a counter or comes up with a new strategy. Of course, such changes could happen multiple times through a single fight, but staying on the winning side is fast becoming an issue for me.
That thought troubles me, even if the gains from all that training has shown up in our dungeon runs. Learning to alter my tactics and use spells like flight or my new hoverboots has given me a new appreciation for terrain and three-dimensional fighting. During the last dungeon run, I barely touched the earth as I challenged myself to stay in the air. In turn, Mikito spent her time using a rifle to snipe attackers. Overall, it was a fun use of our time in the dungeon, even if it meant it took us longer than normal to clear the quests we received.
Rather than deal with it now, I decide to check into the guild the next day. And also to look into my on-going issue with the adventuring teams.
“The Vice-Guild Master will see you now,” the secretary says, sending me in.
The big-chested lady is surprisingly beautiful in a very human way. If you ignore the extra pair of arms, she’s utterly gorgeous. Even with the extra pair of arms—and the slightly longer-than-human torso—I can’t help but plaster on a flirtatious smile. Not that she notices. Admittedly, that might be because I suck at flirting.
“Draco,” I greet him. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“My pleasure, Redeemer. You and the Spear were as good as your word. Your latest kill count came through, and we have reached a new Mana threshold with the city. Now, what is this meeting about?”
“Training. Or more specifically, my training with the teams.” I run a hand through my hair before I drop it and squash the sudden bout of nervousness. “I’m running into a problem staying ahead of their tactics.”
“What have you tried?” Draco says.
“Mmm… obscuring their vision, splitting them up using Mud and Metal Walls, creating extra chaos via chaos grenades or spell storms, hitting them with large-scale area-of-effect attacks, taking out the healer, hit-and-run tactics, grinding down their Mana, using throwaway gear to suppress attacks, direct charges…”
“And they’ve come up with ways to counter all of those tactics?”
I nod. “Yup. Last match with the Joes, I charged the group while fast-casting a bunch of fireballs. Those gave me the cover to drop a bunch of mines. After the Joes scattered, I pulled back over the mines and let them eat the damage and the webs, but that didn’t last long. Even hunkering down and blasting them with Blade Strikes and my knives didn’t go that well. Barely pulled a win that time, and mostly because they forgot I can fly.”
“If you’ve gotten that far, then you are probably hitting your limits,” Draco says. “I’ll spend some time this evening looking over your fights, but I would not hold out hope for significant improvements.”
“What? Come on. I’m a Master Class and they’re, what? Level 40s at best,” I say, crossing my arms. “I should still be able to win more often than not.”
“It’s true that most Master Classers require a pair or three teams of Advanced Class parties to beat,” Draco says. “But you’re not a regular Master Class, are you?”
“Exactly!” When Draco meets my own indignant gaze with his slit-pupiled, placid one, I rein in my pride and consider his words. “Fine. I’m missing a whole Base Class.”
“Exactly,” Draco says. “Never mind the significant loss in Skills, most of which focus on the improvement of an individual’s base fighting ability, you are missing the attributes.”
“But mine’s a prestige Class.”
“Which has given you the advantage you have needed to win against the groups. But they’re learning your tricks, your abilities, and are developing counters just for you. A focused study like this will always create problems for a Master Class. You do not have the versatility of a Master Class Summoner or Technomaner, allowing you to adapt your drones and summons to their adaptations. On top of that, you face two additional disadvantages,” Draco says.
“Pray tell.”
“Numbers. You’re two against five or six. While each single individual might not be your match, the advantage in being able to selectively counter your attacks is important,” Draco says. “Some of the tactics you’ve mentioned are geared toward reducing or eliminating the options among your enemies, but that is insufficient.”
I can’t help but nod. It’s true that the advantage in numbers is tough to deal with. Even if a single one of my attacks is more powerful, even if it takes two of them to neutralize my attacks, I’m still facing the rest of the team unarmed. There are ways of getting around that, but
the teams are realizing their advantage in numbers and really focusing on zone defense plays. That’s part of the reason why I’m finding the battles ever more difficult.
“Secondly, and more importantly, your Class is not geared for such battles,” Draco says.
“Pardon?”
“The Honor Guard Class was never meant to be used sans support. Look at the Erethrans. They work in teams, often dedicating individuals within each team to specific roles. Damage dealing. Support and logistics. Bodyguarding and defense. It is partly why they are so feared. A dedicated logistics personnel with the Portal Skill evolution can put a strike team anywhere in the Galaxy. A bodyguard for the Portal specialist can take any and all damage thrown at the other and erect an unbreachable Sanctum in times of need. A mobile artillery personnel with the Army of One Skill. And that is just in a small team of five. Instead, you spread yourself thin with your Class Skills.” When I move to protest, Draco snorts, body language that my new skill informs me is his race’s way of holding up a hand. “I know you’ve alleviated some of that with Credits, but your opponents can do the same. Specialization works because there is only so much Credits can do.
“Even your Paladin Class is stretched thin. You’ve focused and taken points in everything, making yourself a generalist rather than specializing in any one aspect. That gives you flexibility which you’ve managed to use, but it also leaves you vulnerable to dedicated kill squads.”
My lips press together, but I can’t object. Even I know that spreading yourself thin is sometimes a bad move as a gamer. Min-maxing can provide significant benefits. Among them, Skill Upgrades and evolution. It’s why an evolved Portal Skill could throw me across the galaxy, while my own can, at best, get me across the planet.
“Fair enough. But…” I try to figure out a way to explain my thinking.
“You have your circumstances. And being a generalist is not all bad. Being able to be flexible in a variety of situations is important, especially on Dungeon Worlds or in Forbidden Zones. The Guard is dangerous because they have each other to back them up. But you should understand your Skills, your Classes—they’re not meant to be used alone,” Draco says, pointing at me. “Until you accept that and work with that limitation, you’ll always be at a disadvantage. Now go. I’ve got more work to do. I’ll send you my suggestions for your training later.”
I draw a deep breath to quell my irritation and stand, bowing to him slightly. “Thank you. For everything.”
It’s only when I’m nearly at the door that Draco speaks again. “We’ve all lost friends. To time and blade. But refusing to take on more party members just puts the remainder at more risk.”
I stand there, one hand outstretched toward the exit, for a time before I offer a nod without turning around. The door hisses open and I step outside, my thoughts plagued by the discussion.
The yellow Shop is the same as always. Foxy, my personal sales attendant, seems happy to see me and grateful that I’ve taken the time to actually port in to his interdimensional location rather than using the physical shop in Irvina. There are a few reasons I’ve done that, but one of them is the tall drink of water lounging in the waiting room chair.
“John,” Roxley says, standing. His long hair is purple now, with light blue highlights. It sets off the mahogany skin beautifully.
I let my gaze drop to take in the strong, athletic form of the Truinnar and unconsciously find myself licking my lips. A shake of my head pushes the thought aside. Not the time. Or place.
“Roxley,” I say, walking forward. The damn shameless hunk wraps me up in an embrace followed by a kiss, one that I enjoy before pushing him away. “Hey! Don’t be so handsy. We’re not doing that anymore. Remember?”
“It’s traditional in Truinnar culture to greet one’s ex-lover in that way.”
My eyes narrow while Roxley gives me a perfect poker face. I snort, not believing him one bit. If I hadn’t needed some background information on Oria, I wouldn’t have called the man. Better to cut off what we had cleanly considering… well, we’re galaxies apart.
“Right. Well, I need some information. Background on Oria,” I say.
“The Representative to Irvina. I heard that she contacted you,” Roxley says, leaning forward. “You do know that you are placing me in a very untenable position? I could get into trouble for speaking with you.”
“I would never want you to get into too much trouble,” I say sweetly.
Roxley rolls his eyes, but I know he knows I mean it. And that I trust him to watch how much he says to me.
“Very well. The first thing you should know of the Representative is that she speaks with the Duchess’s voice. She holds an unparalleled position of trust within the organization.”
“Why?”
Roxley visibly considers his words. “There are many reasons. But the most famous is what Duchess Kangana did for Lady Oria. It was eighty or so years ago, soon after Lady Oria entered service in Irvina. Her husband and firstborn had not returned from a Forbidden Zone expedition. The Lady went to the Duchess and begged her for help. In turn, the Duchess launched a full-scale expedition, including her own personal guard, and retrieved her husband and daughter.”
“Huh. That’s… kinda cool,” I say.
“Many called it foolish.” Roxley’s lips pull into a tight smile. “The losses faced in the retrieval party significantly out-weighed the number that were retrieved.”
“Ah…” I wince. I can see why Roxley mentioned this story. It sheds a nicer light on the distant overlord who messed with us, then helped Earth. I’m still not sure how I feel about the Duchess. Still, that matters little. I’m unlikely to ever meet her. Powerful as she is, she’s just one of many powerful figures in the Galaxy.
“The Lady Oria swore unceasing loyalty to the Duchess, and she has become the longest-standing representative in Irvina for the Duchess because of that,” Roxley says. There’s a flicker, so fast and subtle that if I didn’t know him intimately, I’d have missed it.
“What?”
“Nothing pertinent.”
“Let me judge that.”
“Lady Oria’s husband was incensed that she sent others to retrieve him. He was so angered that he separated from her, took a pair of lovers, and eventually broke off contact entirely,” Roxley says. “He died two decades later on another expedition.”
“Oh.” I offer Roxley a half smile. “Sorry. You’re right. Not really relevant. So she’s the Duchess’s voice. What does Oria want from us?”
Roxley snorts, shaking his head. “From Earth? You should know that. Greater control, greater access. Credits and training grounds. The material resources and a location to shift overburdened populations. Everything that the Duchess desires.”
“And from me?”
“To tie a string to you,” Roxley says, pointing at my chest. “You and those of your ilk, the specials who break the System. You hold great potential.”
I grunt. Over time, I’ve begun to realize I’m not as special as I thought. Oh, I’m a cheater—but in a galaxy-wide population, I’m not the only one. On Earth, there are two others who survived the cleansing that I know of. They’re both Champions of Earth. There are probably more individuals who have hidden their strength or just aren’t as flashy. A certain Hong Kong Master comes to mind.
Galactically, there are those who have tried to “cheat” the System. Giving birth in high-Level zones, living in them for their entire childhood to ensure that when they gain full access to their Screens, they gain access to normally untouchable Perks. All of them taking risks and putting themselves in positions of danger or wealth to gain Perks like mine. Or, in some cases, just paying off the Council. Though that last one is as much rumor as hard fact. Some answers are too expensive to be bought.
Those who are “special” in that way are both lauded and feared. Minor Perks are something that most of the rich can acquire. Even some of the poorer individuals have lucked into them—whether through coincidence, fate, or p
lanning. But like on Earth, becoming successful is not just a matter of luck. Too many gifted athletes have injured themselves, lacked the discipline or desire to become professionals. In a world where the fastest route to power is via combat, the losses are astounding.
“Har. That’s it?” I say.
“For now,” Roxley says, opening his hand. “Not everyone is useful. Not everyone is manipulable. Not everyone is trustworthy. A simple task like the one given to you helps create a precedent.”
I grunt, crossing my arms. Right. Like you give a programmer a small job to start with then check their code or the final result. If they take too long, code sloppily, or don’t put in comments, well, now you know. And for only a little cost. Doesn’t matter how gifted a programmer is, if they don’t comment in the script, you might not ever want to use them. Especially for big, complex projects.
“Thank you. So. How are the others?”
“Well enough. The Constable has been pushing me to reform the mounted police of your world. She’s very interested in your Lana’s griffon. We have been looking into the feasibility and have begun a pilot program,” Roxley says. “Aiden has formed a magic academy in Kamloops. The number of students has ballooned, and they are hiring more faculty members. The school pays for itself via dungeon runs and live magical experimentation on monsters.
“Your friends Rachel and Jason? They are looking at a second spawn,” Roxley says, distaste on his face.
I chuckle, recalling a memory of him being given their squalling firstborn child on one of his impromptu visits to Carcross. That had been a sight to behold.
