by M Helbig
“Upgrades would be good, but it is probably a better idea to do that after you have your class and have redistributed your points. I was hoping we could pop in the shops on the way, so that I can ask them about Kasper. I like to check with them periodically to see if they have heard anything new.”
“Of course.”
I opened the door to the first store we passed. I hadn’t checked the sign, but judging by the vials and odd, stinky plants, I figured it was an alchemist’s shop. The wizened gnome dismissed Olaf as soon as he approached the counter, but after he bought a potion, the gnome reluctantly told us he hadn’t heard anything about Kasper or Oskar. The next six shopkeepers were friendlier but gave Olaf exactly the same answer.
A few minutes later, we found ourselves out of the Trade District and on the outskirts of the Palace District. I felt so bad for Olaf and instinctively scanned every face we passed in the hopes that his son might be there. The only thing I did find was that if I didn’t concentrate when looking at people, I’d accidentally turn on Inspect. The angry stares and occasional shouts weren’t worth the skill point gain. I vowed to focus on the less hostile buildings as we entered the next area.
The change in districts was obvious. While bright, polished, white stone seemed to be the sole building material around the palace, the buildings of the Military District were almost universally gray, brown, or black. Whether the color choice was done intentionally or because the darker materials appeared sturdier and cheaper, I couldn’t say. The Palace District had been an intricate puzzle of buildings, each built to complement its neighbors’ aesthetically and functionally, while those of the Military District were ugly, unique, and independent. These buildings were erected to serve one purpose and nothing else. Almost immediately, I could make out the one I was looking for as the lone building surrounded by trees.
I glanced around to see if I could pick out the ones for the other classes. The thick stone building shaped like a keep with the sword and shield emblem had to be the Warrior’s Training Hall, and my suspicion was confirmed as a pair of heavily armored people walked out. To its left stood a windowless, dark-gray slab with no sort of adornment that left me mystified as to its purpose. I jumped back when the building shook violently several times and soon a lithe, dark-haired man in a martial arts uniform flew out the opening that served as its entrance. A bald dwarf appeared in the opening afterwards and shook his bleeding gloved hands at the fallen man. I somehow managed to find “Bruiser” in between the string of curses and took it to be the name of his class.
I still couldn’t find the building that belonged to Olaf’s chosen class, but none of them screamed “Thief” to me. I assumed it’d either be something dilapidated, since that was where thieves tended to hang out in most books or other games, or possibly something made of gold (to show off how good they were at thieving). However, no building in sight fit. It definitely wasn’t the one looking like the inside of a clock or the one with pens full of exotic beasts around it. My confusion was soon magnified when Olaf pointed at an open field sandwiched between the Bruiser’s slab and the Warrior’s hall.
“Is that where the Thief’s building is going to be, or did they steal the building that used to be there?” I asked.
Olaf grinned. “I think it must be a test to see if you belong there. That is the Thief’s guild, you just have to stand in the right spot to see it. Nice trick of design.”
He pulled me to stand before him and then put his hand over my right eye. I blinked in surprise as the building suddenly came into view. It was made completely of a thin wood that looked like it might fall over, but as I squinted at one of the cracks, I could see the black stone underneath. At the entrance, a one-eyed woman grinned at me devilishly as she casually sharpened her daggers, and just behind her I could see the point of an arrow directed straight at me. I grinned back at her in response and stepped to the right so I could take in the more pleasant illusion of the empty field.
“You’re on your own, buddy,” I said. “Where I’m going, you’ll only get stabbed if you fall on a sharp tree branch, not by the trainers.”
“True, but they should have better drinks here, and I doubt there will be any bark floating in it.”
“No, only thumbs.”
Olaf shrugged and walked off. “Fingers sometimes have rings on them. I shall see you later, friend. Send me a message when you are done.”
“Will do. And keep an eye on your wallet.” I waved at him and walked toward a door attached to the giant tree.
As I entered, I expected to be greeted by a talking deer or some other woodland creature, but was soon approached by an elf in a stiff gray suit. He made his way from the only visible furniture in the room—a small podium—holding his chin high and staring at me impassively. My eyes darted back to the entrance to make sure I hadn’t gone in the wrong building by accident, but I was indeed inside a giant tree. When I looked back at the elf, he was still standing in the exact same position, like he was frozen in time—or had taken an advanced degree in stuffy butlering. His eyes attempted to push me out the door with pure disdain, but after a few minutes of me refusing to bend to his will, he finally spoke.
“Can I . . . help you with something, sir?”
“I’d like to take up the Woodsman class,” I said, not as confidently as I’d have liked.
The butler seemed to latch onto my lack of surety and let out a practiced sniffle. “Hmm. And where would you like to take this class? To the show? To one of your rowdy mudball games or whatever it is your kind does for enjoyment?”
I strongly wanted to deposit whatever a “mudball” was in one of his pockets but was afraid doing so might ruin my chance to gain a class. “That’s not what I meant. I want to become a Woodsman, so I can be an Archer at level twenty-five. What do I need to do to accomplish that?”
The butler lowered his chin, and I soon felt the distinctive tingle of Inspect being used on me. “Are you sure you want to be a Woodsman?”
I ground my teeth and let out a frustrated “Yes!”
Congratulations! You have chosen to be a Woodsman. Please talk to your trainer to receive your new class abilities and spells.
The butler’s glued-on frown, which had seemed permanent, creased up into a broad smile and his stiff posture evaporated as he warmly patted me on the back. “Awesome. My name is Davalalial, but you can call me Dav. Sorry about the ruse, but I need to make sure potentials are committed before I let them into the club.”
“My name is Horus.”
“Nice to meet you, Horus. Now that you’re officially a Woodsman, let me give you the tour of our training hall, and then teach you your new skills. Oh, one more thing.”
As a new Woodsman, you are allowed to reassign your abilities and skills for free. You will also be allowed to reassign them for free when you pick your sub-class at level 25, and when you pick a specialty at level 50. If you wish to reassign at any other time, you will have to pay your trainer an amount based on your level and the number of times you have reassigned before.
Unassigned Stat Points: 0
STR: 20 (21)
HP: 95/95
AGI: 13
MP: 20/20
DEX: 22
AP: 40/40
STA: 19
AC: 17
END: 8
Carrying Capacity: 39/420
CHA: 9
INT: 4
WIS: 4
Unused Skill Selections: 3
Skills: 1-Handed Swords 8/25, Flanking Attack 5/25, Inspect 9/25, Regen 8/25, Sprint 2/25, Survivalist 2/25
Unlearned Skills Unlocked: Carrying, Detective, Improved Agility, Improved Charisma, Improved Dexterity, Improved Stamina, Kick, Unarmed Combat
“What do you recommend?” I asked
The tingle of Inspect washed over me again. “Hmm. Lots of Dexterity, Stamina, and Strength, with some Agility and the rest sprinkled everywhere else. I see what you were going for. I’d move those points out of Strength, though, since you’r
e going for Archer. Unlike melee weapons, ranged ones get a very small damage bonus from Strength. Only reason for you to keep anything in Strength is for the carry capacity. Can’t haul any loot if you don’t put anything in it. Also, you should probably learn Improved Dexterity. I like the rest of your skill choices. If you find yourself strapped for skill points, you could drop swords—but I’d keep it for now. Occasionally, you’ll find yourself in fights where a ranged weapon is useless.”
All great advice. I dropped Strength down to 6, which after adding in the extra Strength I got from my sword gave me a carrying capacity of 140. If I needed more, I could always add points when I leveled again or pick up the Carrying skill. I learned Improved Dexterity and was surprised that my DEX didn’t go up until I reread the description. Evidently, it only added stat points at even skill levels. I’d a feeling Dav could read my mind as I eyed Intelligence and Wisdom to lower them for more Dexterity.
“You’ll get spells shortly, so you’re going to want to put some points in Intelligence and Wisdom. Are you going to be soloing mostly, or have you got a steady group?”
“I have a group, but someone else is going to be our healer. I don’t think I’ll be casting much.”
Dav shook his head. “Still a good idea to put a decent amount in it. Even Archers have to cast Root to slow down unwanted adds or help out with healing when it gets really hairy. As for the rest, you could move most into Dexterity and just go all out on DPS, but I’ve found that lower levels tend to take a lot more hits—since their groupmates tend to not know what they’re doing—so several points in Stamina is probably a good idea. Also, might want to keep a few in Agility too, for the occasional dodge. Remember, you can move everything around again when you hit twenty-five. By then, you should have more skilled groupmates.”
I’d been about to keep my Intelligence and Wisdom where they were, but he convinced me, so I put 11 in each. With as much of a beating as I’d been taking, I decided to keep my Stamina high at 19. I hadn’t seen a whole lot of dodges, so I dropped Agility down to 8. “And what about Charisma?”
“That is a dump stat, sir,” Dav said, rolling back into his stuffy butler impersonation. “People have written whole books on that one. Our guild master gave me one for my birthday called An In-Depth Statistical Analysis of the Benefit of Better Equipment Due to More Money from Higher Charismas Versus the Benefit of Spending the Points in a More Traditional Manner Volume I. No idea what the conclusions of it are, but whenever I have trouble sleeping, all I have to do is look at the title. From what I can tell, I wouldn’t neglect Charisma totally, as a little extra cash can be handy and it can open up rare, lucrative quests. But I wouldn’t put too much in it, unless you’re going to focus on being a non-combat crafter.”
What he was saying made a lot of sense and was mostly in line with what I had already figured. With Alizia putting so many points in Charisma, we probably should have had her doing all the selling for our group. Then again, I wasn’t sure if we could trust her to give it all back and not spend it on potions. Plus, I could already picture the argument if I suggested that to Decrona. Dav’s book did sound like something I should tell her about, though.
I decided to drop my Charisma to 1, since Decrona did all our selling. A few rare quests didn’t seem worth it. “What about Endurance?” I asked. “Do Woodsmen have a lot of abilities that use Action Points?”
“A few at higher levels, but most of our special attacks use mana. Action Points are more for the non-spellcasting classes like Thieves and Warriors—or for Woodsmen who find themselves running away a lot.”
I decided to keep my Endurance the same. That left me with 35 points which I put in Dexterity. I kept all of the skills I’d already unlocked and gave my character sheet one more look before I finalized it.
Horus
Level: 5
HP: 95/95
Class: Woodsman
MP: 55/55
Race: Human
AP: 40/40
Experience: 656/25,000
AC: 17
STR: 6 (7)
Resists
AGI: 8
Light: 0
DEX: 35
Dark: 5
STA: 19
Earth: 0
END: 8
Water: 0
CHA: 1
Fire: 5
INT: 11
Wind: 0
WIS: 11
HP Regen: 5 per minute (7 per minute out of combat)
Carrying Capacity: 39/140
MP Regen: 5 per minute
AP Regen: 5 per minute
Skills: 1-Handed Swords 8/25, Flanking Attack 5/25, Improved Dexterity 1/25, Inspect 9/25, Regen 8/25, Sprint 2/25, Survivalist 2/25
I moved Strength and Agility up and down a few times, but ultimately kept them where I'd originally moved them. Now that I had more DEX, I was really looking forward to seeing how much faster I’d attack and how much damage I’d do with a bow—an object I neither had, nor had the skill to use. As I opened my mouth to ask Dav if he could teach me that, I noticed he was already past the podium and heading through the doorway behind it. I had to race to catch up as he ascended the huge spiral staircase. He finally stopped in a cramped room full of various armors, supplies, and thankfully, weapons. A squat, matronly woman rushed from the other side of an overloaded counter to greet me. I enthusiastically shook her hand.
“A new recruit, I take it?” she asked Dav.
“Indeed. His name is Horus, and judging by his gear, he could probably use some of your more affordable wares, Maeva.”
“Umm . . . Could I just browse for now and come back later with one of my friends?” I asked sheepishly. “I took all my points out of Charisma, and I’d like whichever of them still has a high Charisma to buy for me”
Dav laughed. “If my brilliantly charismatic self can’t get better prices out of her, she obviously doesn’t respond to that stat.”
Maeva’s scowl made Dav back up into the doorway. “What he means, dear—besides that you shouldn’t listen to him—is that we’re all friends here, and unlike most vendors, Charisma doesn’t matter to me, since I’m already selling at cost. Besides, I don’t sell to non-Woodsmen. Now, let me have a look at you.”
Maeva bit her lip and then slowly did circuits around me. She pinched me a few times, which I at first assumed was to get an idea of the thickness and quality of my gear, but after she winked at me on the fourth one, I realized it probably had nothing to do with that. After the fifth circuit, she darted back behind the counter and began tossing objects around.
“I think I have a few things that might help and could be in your price range. What’s your opinion on ruffles? Are you allergic to cats? Oh, and how much do you want to have left over?”
“It depends on the Armor Class of the ruffles. Only if they bite me, and as long as I have enough money left over to cover a death.”
Maeva’s eye poked up over the counter and she giggled like a little girl. “I’ll try to see if I have anything that won’t bite you, but no promises.” Her eyes shot back down, and she resumed tossing around items with renewed gusto. “Ahh, here it is. Don’t worry, I’ll clean out all the dents, holes, and blood before you leave. Pity about the previous owner, but he really shouldn’t have tried to take on all those squirrels at once. How much money do you have, by the way?”
Since Decrona had given me my cut, I actually hadn’t checked to see what I was up to. I concentrated on my inventory screen and was shocked to see nothing but zeroes. I frantically went to my notifications to see if I’d accidentally bought something expensive enough to bottom out my money but didn’t see anything. As I got halfway through double-checking it, I heard the clink of coins behind me and turned to find Dav rifling through a small bag.
“Looks to be fifteen gold, seven silver—and one copper.” He handed me a wad of something wrapped in foil. “You shouldn’t keep your old gum in your money pouch. Very unprofessional.”
I tossed the wad of gum aw
ay and grabbed my bag. “Like stealing money from new recruits? Wait, this isn’t my gum.”
“Oh, right. It’s mine.” Dav rolled the wad around in his hand for a bit before suddenly ripping it open and tossing the contents in his mouth. “Well, it’s still unprofessional to have gum in there, even if it does belong to your guild trainer.”
I ignored him and set the Battered Shield as well as the few pieces of equipment I’d already replaced on the counter. “Oh, yeah. I also have these to trade in.”
Maeva tossed a sack full of something metallic at Dav and he fell to the ground in a heap. “This should keep those sticky fingers of yours busy. And thank you for volunteering to polish them for me. I want all the bits of skull and brains out, so we can sell them to the next dimwi—new recruit.” She turned to me and beamed a massive smile. “Now, with those trade-ins, you can afford either the sleeves, leggings, and belt together or the chest piece and one of the other three. I’m assuming, of course, that you want to keep a few coins for potions.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m all out. How did you know?”
Dav grinned in fake innocence. Maeva sighed and pointed to the counter which held the four pieces in question.
Item: Junior Explorer’s Sleeves
Restrictions: Woodsman class only, Restricted Sale
Slot: Arms
Rarity: Uncommon
AC: 5
Stat Bonus: +2 DEX +1 INT +1 WIS
Weight: 6 Pebbles
Description: You can still see the marks from where the merit badges of the former owner were yanked off. Even a new recruit like you knows merit badges aren’t supposed to go on sleeves—probably why the previous owner isn’t wearing them anymore, which in turn might also explain the blood and holes . . .
